This West Coast Country
by kirstyvega
Summary: The saga rejigged & set to music: drabble/fanmix series done in various perspectives/methods. There's love/lust/drama, wolves/vamps, an eventual happy ending for JakeNBells, lots of music & comments. Part serious part spoof; part canon-compliant part AU.
1. Section 1: Drabbles I to III

**NB – Because this is essentially a fanmix and it's all about the music, please visit my profile page for the links to the videos for the songs. There's a fair bit of commentary too. Some of it's a sanity check, some of it's about the music. If you don't like it, skip it!**

I had a crazy idea a while ago. Not an original idea by any means, but definitely a slightly cracked one. I'd write a bunch of Twilight drabbles to country songs. Why, you might ask? Well because, as anyone who knows anything about me knows, I love my music – especially the twangy kind! And I love taking the piss out of life.

So here I am lampooning, in the nicest possible way, fanfic _and_ country and western. ("Oh, we got both kinds. We got country _and_ western!" Ten points to the first person who guesses what movie that's from. I'll tell the answer at the end of the series if no one takes a stab.) Some of the music is actually good. It's authentic old country from amazing musicians, songwriters and singers. But some of it is absolute tripe; the modern, saccharine, three chord pop variety that makes my teeth ache. Under the premise that everyone is entitled to their own opinion, I won't say which songs I think fall into which category. People can make up their own minds but I encourage everyone to have a listen even if it's not your normal/preferred genre.

The drabbles themselves aren't groundbreaking fanfic. (If there is even there such a thing! Part of me of thinks writing 'groundbreaking' and 'fanfic' in the same sentence is, by its very nature, oxymoronic!) They're of various lengths (some are even over 1000 words – oh noes!), styles and perspectives. They're also sort of canon, sort of in chronological order and sort of in character. And they've all probably, sort of, been done before. Having said that though, what I am most pleased with is how the songs really work with the characters' sentiments and the situations to add something to the drabbles. Which is why I really encourage people to go listen because then they'll get the full effect. So, without further ado, let us dive into This West Coast Country…

Oh, and I own nuthin' 'cept ma truck, ma boots 'n' ma twisted sense of humour (that means copyrights and kudos go to the respective artists and teh Twilight author).

* * *

><p><strong>|I – Stars in her Eyes| |Renee|<br>**Artist: Miranda Lambert  
>Song: Me and Charlie Talking (M. Lambert, R. Lambert, Heather Little © 2004)<p>

_Me and Charlie boy used to go walking  
>Sittin' in the woods behind my house<br>When bein' lovers meant a stolen kiss  
>And holding hands with nobody else around<br>Charlie said he wanted to get married  
>But we were only ten so we'd have to wait<br>He said we'd never let our love run dry  
>Like so many do these days<em>

Dear Diary: he's so mysterious and has this dark handsome look to him. I've never met a man like Charlie Swan before! I feel like I can really open up to him, he listens so well when I talk. It's like he knows the inside of my soul better than I do. I mean, he never says much but I just know he connects with me on this amazing, deep level. I wish he talked more about his life – all I know is his parents died. That's sad but he seems to have coped pretty well. I guess that's one of the advantages of being the strong silent type: they never go to pieces. And isn't that exactly what I need in a man? I hope things go well on our date…all fingers crossed for tomorrow night!

* * *

><p><strong>|II – Oops| |Charlie &amp; Renee|<br>**Artist: Heidi Newfield  
>Song: Knocked Up (Mark D. Sanders © 2008)<p>

_Knocked up, shame shame  
>I'm gonna ruin my family name<br>Here comes what Granny's been dreadin'  
>Belly full of baby in a shotgun wedding<br>Hand-me-down crib in a pick up truck  
>That's what you get when you get knocked up<em>

"You're having your coffee black with your doughnut this morning, Charlie?"

"Well, yeah, I'm a bit tired after the late night. I mean, don't get me wrong, I, uh, had a fun date at that Gilbert and Solomon show with you in Port Angeles. It was pretty amusing."

"Sullivan. Gilbert and Sullivan."

"Oh, right. Pass the sugar, can you please, Renee?"

"Sure."

_-Silence. Broken by doughnut-eating and coffee-drinking sounds.-_

"So don't you want to know why I dragged you out of your station to meet me for coffee this morning?"

"Cuz you felt sorry for a cop who hadn't had his daily doughnut yet?"

"No, silly!"

"Um, you wanted to see me in uniform?"

"Getting warmer… It does look sexy on you. Which is probably part of the reason I'm three months pregnant."

_-Silence. Broken by Charlie-choking sounds.-_

"You're telling me... In the diner? Shit, Renee…"

"Aren't you happy? Excited even? You're going to be a father and all you can say is 'shit'? Pregnancy, parenthood, babies – you know it's all supposed to be such a wonderful, life-altering thing and all you can say is 'shit'?"

"Hey, easy now Renee, easy. I, well, I… Do you think you should be drinking coffee? Maybe it's not good for the, um, baby?"

_-Silence. Broken by Renee-slamming-down-her-mug sounds.-_

"Áw, look Renee, I'm sorry. I'm just shocked. Really didn't expect this. I mean, didn't you know before? Earlier, maybe?"

"I wanted to be sure and then surprise you. I thought you'd be thrilled. I've been thinking of names and looking at cute little outfits and I couldn't want to share this with you."

"I'll take a week off work, help you pack up your stuff and move it into my place, Renee. If that's what you want. We can go to the courthouse then too."

_-Silence. Broken by Renee sniffling and Charlie-awkwardly-rubbing-her-back sounds.-_

* * *

><p><strong>|III – Gone| |Charlie|<br>**Artist: Ray Price  
>Song: You Done Me Wrong (Stan Jones © 1956)<p>

_Well you tell me that you care  
>But now you're gone, you've got me cryin'<br>No use denyin' you done me wrong  
>If I could look inside your heart<br>Maybe I would know the reason  
>Why you are leavin' me all alone<em>

_Well you know it's not so_  
><em>When you said you tried<em>  
><em>Well, you know you lied<em>  
><em>I didn't do one wrong thing to you<em>  
><em>Won't you tell me baby why<em>  
><em>You went and left me here so lonely<em>  
><em>I miss you only for I love you<em>

My head hurts. I don't know why. But then as I roll over and realise I need to vomit, I remember why. Beer. Woman. Gone. Both gone. And my baby Bella. She's gone too. Shit. Maybe Billy has more beer.

Why'd they make the bathroom so far from the couch in this damned house?

_A/N – This song's ridiculously upbeat tempo belies its sad nature. I so wanted to use Willie Nelson's cover version but I couldn't find one online. So you'll just have to make do with the original which was released as a B-side by one of the greats of 50s era honky-tonk music, Ray Price. When Hank Williams Sr. died, Price took over his band, the Drifting Cowboys. Price is still around: at age 83 in 2008 he won a Grammy for a song he did with Willie Nelson. Incidentally, this song's writer, Jones, is most famous for writing _'_(_Ghost) Riders in the Sky'_, sung by everyone from Johnny Cash to Bing Crosby to Peggy Lee to Spike Jones. The song is said to have inspired The Doors' _'Riders on the Storm'_ and even made an appearance in that Nicholas Cage movie Ghost Rider. So now you know… And the A/N is longer than the drabble. That's embarrassing. I'll shut up now!_


	2. Section 2: Drabbles IV to VII

Ya'll know the drill. It ain't mine. I'm just rollin' in the hay someone else made while the sun was shining! (Have I ever mentioned I love mixed metaphors? No? They're really enjoyably tacky. You should try it sometime!) **Remember to visit my profile page for links to the song videos. **

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><p><strong>|IV – Drunk Dialling| |Charlie &amp; Billy|<br>**Artist: Hank Williams Jr.  
>Song: Forged by Fire (Darryl Burgess, Ron Hellard © 2009)<p>

_It was hard for him to get out of bed  
>When the phone rang, sleep-eyed she said<br>Charlie's drunk again  
>Why don't you just let it ring<br>Through the years he'd always picked it up  
>For the guy who came back and saved his butt<br>What they have in common is a brotherhood  
>So few could understand<br>_…  
><em>He was headed home ready to unwind<br>Charlie called can you help me one more time  
>He said Chuck, I'll be there on the double<br>For a brother, it's no trouble_

Sarah watches her husband on the phone. It's 2am. He's trying to talk quietly so he doesn't wake the twins.

"I know it's Bella's first birthday, Charlie … Yeah, I'm sorry, too buddy. No one should miss that … You're doing ok though."

Sarah knows this is a lie. Charlie is keeping Rainier's in business. But Charlie is too drunk to know it's a lie which is what counts.

"Listen man, you didn't do anything wrong. She left. That's what flighty women do. They leave."

… (Sarah can hear Charlie's slurred, protesting ramble down the phone from her side of the bed.)

"No, I'm not saying you're better off without her. I'm saying she isn't here anymore so you've gotta live life like this now."

…

"Yeah, you _can_ live … Don't be stupid, of course you can live."

I'd be easier for Charlie to live without the beer though, Sarah thinks sleepily.

"I know buddy, I know. That part really is shit. But when she's old enough we'll work on a way for you to see her … I'll talk to Sarah, she's good with ideas about this kind of thing."

Sarah feels Billy reach across the bed and pat her back. She can't imagine what it'd be like to have the twins taken from her, as much trouble as they can be at times. This is the main reason Charlie's intoxicated nocturnal phone calls don't bother her. Billy voices her thought in response to something Charlie says.

"It's ok. Sarah doesn't mind … No, I don't mind either. I know you'd do it for me if the shoe was on the other foot."

…

"Ok, buddy. You drink some water and hit the sack. I'll call you tomorrow."

…

"Yeah. You too. Night."

Billy hangs up and rolls over to look at his wife. He says nothing but pulls her to him and kisses her gently.

"Thank you," he whispers finally. "Thank you for being here."

_A/N – Ah, the first of the Hank Jr. songs! I was originally only going to do one song per artist in keeping with the theme of variability in these drabbles, but Hank Jr.'s done so much awesome stuff that fits perfectly. So you'll just have to put up with a fair bit of him! He's an interesting character. Son of the famous Hank Williams, (a man who, in his 29 short years on this planet, changed country music forever) Hank Jr. was only four when his father died. By the age of 8 he was on stage performing his father's songs. Like his father, by the time he was in his mid-twenties he was heavily dependent on drugs and alcohol. Just as he was starting to get his life and career together by playing southern rock, Willams Jr. suffered a terrible mountain climbing accident which crushed his skull. Two years later, after he'd learned to walk, talk and sing again, he was back in the recording studio. He now sports a beard and performs in sunglasses and a hat to hide the scars from his accident. Williams Jr.'s son Hank Williams III is also a well-known honky-tonk country, punk and metal musician._

* * *

><p><strong>|V – A Bouncing Baby Boy| |Sarah &amp; Billy|<br>**Artist: Anne Murray  
>Song: Danny's Song (Kenny Loggins © 1971)<p>

_People smile and tell me I'm the lucky one  
>And we've just begun, I think I'm gonna have a son<br>He will be like you and me, as free as a dove  
>Conceived in love, the sun is gonna shine above<em>

_And even though we ain't got money_  
><em>I'm so in love with ya honey<em>  
><em>Everything bring a chain of love<em>  
><em>And in the mornin' when I rise<em>  
><em>Bring a tear of joy to my eyes<em>  
><em>And tell me everything's gonna be all right<em>

The doctor wiped some ultrasound gel across Sarah's trim, bronze tummy.

She shivered slightly at the cold and at the thought that she'd soon be a balloon again. Although hopefully this time not as voluminous a balloon as she had been with the twins. Surely the odds of not having a second set of twins were in her favour?

"There you are Sarah, a nice healthy baby. Looks to me like you're about twelve weeks along. Does that seem right?"

"Yes, definitely, Dr Robinson." Sarah knew without an ounce of doubt when she'd conceived this baby. Billy had come home from a Sunday fishing trip, taken the girls around to the Clearwaters to see Leah, and then ravaged Sarah on their veranda. And in the kitchen. Followed by their bed, then the living room.

She wasn't sure what had spurred his ardour – they had talked about having another child several times but money was tight so they never agreed on it. Hell, money was always tight, but Sarah had stopped taking the pill in case Billy relented. He'd always used condoms until that Sunday afternoon in mid-March.

Over supper, their favourite shared guilty pleasure of tinned spaghetti, she'd quietly asked him, once she found the words, why now? Billy'd answered, obliquely, by saying Charlie came fishing. Sarah thought about this for a moment and then realised it was the first time in a year that the poor man had agreed to go fishing with Billy and Harry again. A year since his wife had left him and taken that sweet little baby girl with her.

Billy'd furthered his explanation. "Charlie is sobering up and sort of crawling out of his shell. At least, me and Harry are still hauling on him and he's finally given in enough to let us pull him out occasionally." Sarah's husband paused and forked up some more mushy noodles and iridescent red sauce.

"But him being alone now and everything, well, it made me realise, what the hell point is there in life if you don't have a family you love?"

Sarah throat was too tight for her to answer with anything more than a squeeze of Billy's broad hand. Sure, money was always going to be short but she had Billy. And she fucking loved Billy Black. Later that evening when she'd picked the twins up from the Clearwaters, Sue gave her a knowing smile.

The doctor was giving Sarah the same knowing smile now as he wiped her tummy off. "It's just one this time. I'll bet that's a relief after those girls of yours," he joked gently.

Sarah looked a little sheepish. Lucille, Dr Robinson's receptionist, had been giving her the stink eye since last year when Rachel had painted the waiting area chairs with blueberry yogurt while Sarah had taken Rebecca to the toilet.

"I-" she started.

"You know what one of the Crowley kids did?" The doctor cut her off and continued before she could answer. "He fed his bologna sandwich to the jade plant on the front desk. We're still picking soil out of the carpet. And thinking about asking parents not to bring food with their kids anymore!" Then he was serious, back to business after kindly pointing out that all toddlers have their moments. "I'd like you to come back in two months for your mid-pregnancy scan. Lucille will organise an appointment for you. Between now and then, make sure you get as much rest as those girls will allow."

Billy was ecstatic. He put the fuzzy black and white picture on the fridge along with the twins' finger paintings. The girls didn't understand why their mother had a thing that looked like a white alien in her belly. Who would want to swallow something that ugly?

xxx

Three weeks later Charlie came over. Billy was right, he was less of an hermit crab this spring. Except Billy hadn't yet told him about the baby. Charlie missed his daughter so desperately that Billy hadn't the heart to say anything. Until Charlie got up to get another round of beers out of the Blacks' fridge and saw the grainy ultrasound picture and froze. The stiff smile he pasted on his face slipped off too quickly after he said his congratulations. Charlie himself soon slipped out the front door, leaving Harry and Billy to finish watching the Mariners lose a preseason game.

That night in bed Billy was thankful for the dip his wife made in the mattress next to him. He patted Sarah's emerging bump, saying "I wonder if he'll like fishing? I hope he's sweet like you and doesn't have my short fuse."

"_She_ might like fishing, you never know," Sarah teased. "But the fire in you – any child of yours is always going to have that."

There was a serious moment; they regarded each other deeply, Sarah pressing her hand against his above the baby. Then Billy barked out a laugh and said "You think so? I hope not. I was such a little shit as a kid and I was really hoping for a nice quite baby this time after the twins."

"You, misbehave? Never, Mr. Black!"

"Try telling that to the family dog. I strapped him to a tricycle once at the beach. He nearly drowned in the surf trying to get away from me. We tried to teach him to tackle like an NFL player too. Probably had less success with that than with operation sled-dog." Billy was chuckling, lost in the memories of his childhood misadventures.

"Yeah, but the time you stuffed him in a duffel bag and took him up a pine into your tree house really took the cake didn't it?"

"How'd you know about that, Mrs Black?" Billy asked with round eyes. He'd never told his wife about that incident. Mostly because it ended with Old Quil, who'd been walking past while Billy lowered the dog down on a rope harness, whaling him for being a 'warped, cauliflower-brained, monkey who was too dumb to know his left ball from his right elbow or that dogs belonged on the ground.'

"Old Quil's got a long memory," Sarah replied smugly.

"It was Young Quil's idea anyway," Billy said petulantly. "The damned dog was fine on the way up. How was I supposed to know he wouldn't want to get in the bag for the return trip out of the tree? And then when I did squish him in and started climbing out, he looked down and panicked. Everyone knows you're not supposed to do that! Stupid mutt scratched the hell out of my shoulders so lowering him on a rope was our only option."

"I think we have plenty to look forward to," Sarah answered her husband dryly.

xxx

"Would you like to know the baby's sex?" Dr. Robinson asked Sarah when she was back on his table, rounding tummy again covered in chilly gunk.

"Sure, but I already know it's a boy," she beamed up at him. She couldn't tell him how she knew, she just did. Besides, in the last two months, Billy had done nothing but rub her belly and tell it tribal stories at night. Sarah knew the stories Billy had been whispering were those meant only for the ears of the tribe's men. If anyone could sense these things, it was Billy.

"Indeed. Woman's intuition is correct and once again steals modern medicine's thunder," the doctor joked. "It is a boy."

The girls were indifferent. All they could tell from the picture was the thing called 'brother' was now a bigger alien. No one wanted an alien, especially not them. They wanted new butterfly stickers for their collection. Or new scented markers. Leah had those but she wouldn't share.

Billy, on the other had, was, if possible, more ecstatic over this picture than the last. He painted the nursery blue, put up Thomas the Tank Engine pictures and began carving a toy truck. When that was finished he carved a wolf. "Just in case," he said. "Just in case the boy is anything like me and has the fire inside."

Artist: Brad Paisley  
>Song: Anything Like Me (Paisley, Chris DuBois, Dave Turnbull © 2009)<p>

_I started wondering who he was going to be  
>And I thought heaven help us if he's anything like me<em>

_He'll probably climb a tree too tall and ride his bike too fast_  
><em>End up every summer wearin' something in a cast<em>  
><em>He's gonna throw a ball and break some glass<em>  
><em>In a window down the street<em>

_He's gonna get in trouble, oh, he's gonna get in fights_  
><em>I'm gonna lose my temper and some sleep<em>  
><em>It's safe to say that I'm gonna get my payback<em>  
><em>If he's anything like me<em>

_A/N – Did _'Oh, I hadn't heard the great news. A bouncing baby boy, huh? Shoulda brought some blue balloons.' _spring to mind for anyone else? Ick, I had to go get Breaking Fail off my bookshelf and double check that line! 'Scuse me while I go bleach my hands/brain now... Not to worry, Jake makes an appearance soon enough._

_Sorry this was so long. I originally wrote it where everything happened at the one scan – dating conception and sexing the baby. Then I realised it doesn't work like that. Meh, what do I know about babies? (Nada, obviously!) In my defence, I was an equine vet nurse, not a human one. Ask me about scanning mares or foals being born and I can 'splain that easily. _Homo sapiens_ not so much! Besides, I can't help myself when I start writing Billy and Sarah. I get caught up in it… _

_I couldn't just pick one song either. Danny's Song was written for Loggin's brother Danny on the birth of his son Colin. The Loggins and Messina recording wasn't a hit but the song's been covered many times since then. I wanted to use the Beccy Cole version here. Beccy's an Australian country singer and always puts on a great live show. Alas, there was no vid for it so I had to go with the 1972 Anne Murray classic instead. I guess that's ok, Anne was only the first female Canadian solo artist to go #1 on the US charts! I couldn't go past Brad Paisley's song for Billy's POV either. So there you have it._

* * *

><p><strong>|VI – Sisters| |Rachel &amp; Rebecca|<br>**Artist: Sara Storer  
>Song: Long Live the Girls (Storer © 2007)<p>

_Long live the girls, rubber bands and sun-kissed curls  
><em>_Sweet tears and hand-me-down dresses,  
><em>_What a year for dandelion wishes  
><em>_Long live the girls, maybe forever happy  
><em>_Long live the girls, long live the girls_

_Jewels and clothes and songs and secrets all 'bout love  
><em>_Take a hand if one girl falls behind  
><em>_You're growing up too soon stop hiding in your room  
><em>_Every heartache you feel goes in time  
><em>_Darlin' don't cry he's only a boy, a silly silly boy_

"I get the pink one, you get the purple one, Bec."

"Ok. That leaves green, blue, red and yellow," Rebecca replies to her sister.

"Red for Leah. That's easy," Rachel states.

Rebecca looks thoughtful. "Will she wear it though?"

"Probably not. Doesn't matter though, everyone else will so it'll still feel like a birthday. Yellow for Seth?"

"No," Rebecca replies. "Yellow for Jake." She puts the party hat into a pile with hers and Rachel's.

"That leaves us with blue and green." Rachel holds up a hat in each hand, dangling them by their elastic strings.

"Perfect for Bella and Seth," finishes Rebecca.

xxx

There are six paper grab bags for this party, containing amongst other things, the carefully allocated hats. The girls will have another party on their actual birthday next month with all their school friends but since Bella's only here for a week in June, they get two parties. And two cakes. This suits them perfectly.

Sarah's using this party as a dry run to bake a pink strawberry-flavoured cake in the shape of a number seven. If it doesn't work, the family won't mind and she'll have some time to figure out how to improve before she hosts fifteen screaming seven-year-old girls.

xxx

They're all in the backyard now to play and burn off the strawberry cake. With its sparklers instead of candles and copious quantities of frosting, it was a hit.

"Pretty. Blue for Bwella" says Jake as he lifts her cone-shaped hat off her head and lets it snap back down. Bella giggles.

Seth toddles over to where Bella and Jake are sitting, his green party hat over one ear, pink icing in the other. Bella gently takes his hat off to stop the elastic cutting into his chin and cheek.

"See Jake," she says and points at the yellow cone near his feet. "My blue hat plus your yellow hat make Seth's green hat." Bella has learned about primary colours in kindergarten and is eager to share.

Jake, however, is far more intent on the icing in Seth's ear. Grabbing the younger boy, he scrapes the frosting out with a finger he then licks clean. Seth squirms and squeaks but Jake pins him down and finishes scrubbing out his ear. This exceeds the toddler's tolerance and he begins to wail loudly.

Leah comes barrelling over from the corner of the yard where she and the twins have been tossing and twirling batons with ribbons. Reaching the picnic blanket where the three youngest children are sitting, she scoops her brother onto her hip. She may only be seven, but she's strong and she scolds Jake with a stern "Leave him!"

Seth reaches down to Bella, who, not knowing what to do, hands up his green hat, the point of which goes directly into his mouth. Leah walks away with her brother and plops a snivelling Seth down in front of Rebecca and Rachel.

"Here baby, you have this." Rebecca slips her purple hat onto Seth's head with a kiss while shooting Jake a dirty look.

"Mine too, it keeps slipping into my eyes when I'm looking up to catch the baton," says Rachel, fitting her hat onto the back of Seth's head. He gurgles happily now and keeps chewing his soggy green cardboard.

Plucking her red hat out off the branch she'd hung it on, Leah fastens it over Seth's forehead. The girls regard him, a tiny, multicoloured triceratops sitting on his diapered bottom. They explode with giggles, grab their shiny batons and skip and scamper around him, trailing ribbons and streamers like a Maypole.

Sarah hears the laughter and looks out. She sees Bella and Jake watching the spectacle from their picnic blanket. Then Bella puts both the yellow and blue paper hats on Jake's head, he grabs her hand and they scurry over to join the squealing circle of girls around Seth.

She calls to Sue in the living room where she's wiping pink frosting off the furniture. The two women step outside to watch their kids play.

"Who turned the boys into hat racks?" yells Sue.

"We did," shriek back Rachel, Rebecca, Leah and Bella, breathless.

"Gii-irls!" Sue and Sarah cry out together in the same disapproving tone of voice. Looking at each other, they burst out laughing. Sarah jumps off the back porch, "Come on, the clean up can wait." She holds out a hand to Sue and the mothers run over to join their daughters' frolic.

_A/N – Sara Storer's an Aussie. This makes me smile. Like so : )_

* * *

><p><strong>|VII – Gone| |Billy|<br>**Artist: Wayne Cochran and the C.C. Riders  
>Song: Last Kiss (Cochrane, Joe Carpenter, Randall Hoyal &amp; Bobby McGlon © 1961)<p>

_We hadn't driven very far  
>There in the road, up straight ahead<br>A car was stalled, the engine was dead  
>I couldn't stop, so I swerved to the right<br>I'll never forget the sound that night  
>The screamin' tires, the bustin' glass<br>_…  
><em>When I woke up, the rain was pourin' down<br>There were people standing all around  
>Something warm rollin' through my eyes<br>But somehow I found my baby that night  
>I lifted her head, she looked at me and said<br>"Hold me darling just a little while."  
>I held her close, I kissed her our last kiss<br>I found the love that I knew I would miss  
>But now she's gone, even though I hold her tight<br>I lost my love, my life that night._

All I can hear is snuffling. That choked noise people make when they try not to cry loudly. I hate this charade, it's worse than if everyone'd just bawl their eyes out.

Which is what I did when I realised I'd be burying my wife after the car accident.

I don't know why they call them car 'accidents'. This wasn't a simple accident. It was a fucking tragic disaster. I guess 'car disaster' doesn't sound so tidy and catchy.

There's nothing neat and tidy about any of this though. It's so, so fucking wrong in so many ways. Sarah was good and whole, there was no reason for her to go. I'm the one with god-damned diabetes. She was supposed to put me in the ground, for Christ's sake!

Burying my wife today is bad enough, but burying my children's mother is… I don't have words for it.

I guess that's maybe why people are snuffling instead of crying: to protect the kids. As if you can. As if you can protect anyone. We all die. It's just a matter of when.

_A/N – Sorry. It had to happen :(_

_Raise your hands if you were surprised that Pearl Jam did not write this track? While I love Eddie Vedder to pieces and think he has possibly the sexiest voice of any man alive (Note: I say alive. Johnny Cash'd win hands down if he wasn't dead!) for some reason I felt the need to go with the much less famous original. Pearl Jam and their sexy-voiced lead singer have been just one of several bands to cover the song. It was written based on fact – Cochrane lived near a highway where a few fatalities had occurred. Finally, if you're up for a laugh after the heartfail of Sarah's death, visit Wayne Cochrane's website. His gravity- and colour-defying hair will surely make you smile!_


	3. Section 3: Drabbles VIII to X

The truth is, I got nuthin' to ma name but ma old hat and the rented place I hang it. Meaning I intend no infringement or plagiarism, I'm just mucking around with other people's work and it'll never amount to monetary gain.  
>(Or, in someone else's words: "The truth is, Wyld Stallyns will never be a super band until we have Eddie Van Halen on guitar." Who said that? What movie is it from? I know you know…)<p>

* * *

><p><strong>|VIII Loser| |Charlie|<br>**Artist: Dwight Yoakam  
>Song: Good Time Charlie's Got The Blues (Danny O'Keefe © 1972)<p>

_Everybody's gone away,  
>Said they're movin' to L.A.<br>There's not a soul I know around,  
>Everybody's leavin' town<em>

_Some caught a freight, some caught a plane_  
><em>Find the sunshine leave the rain<em>  
><em>They said this town will waste your time<em>  
><em>Guess they're right – it's wasting mine<em>

_Some gotta win, some gotta lose_  
><em>Good Time Charlie's got the blues<em>  
><em>Good Time Charlie's got the blues<em>

Charlie keeps telling himself that Renee might be gone but at least she's not dead. He tells himself this during boring late shifts and suppertimes spent eating cruddy takeaway; on Sundays when he's fishing and on Bella's birthdays. Sometimes though, especially first thing on silent Christmas mornings, he thinks that gone is not really much better than dead. If Renee was dead he might actually be able to forgive her for leaving. And for taking Bella.

Today he looks over at his friend Billy casting a line through the wet, grey, spring air and finally realises the foolishness in this thought. Death does not bring forgiveness. Charlie knows that Billy, although he says very little, somehow blames himself for Sarah's death. There is no forgiveness, only loss.

Charlie also realises Billy's coping skills are far superior to his own. Billy is resolute and functional despite both losing Sarah last year and the guilt that he carries.

It's been ten years since Charlie came home to a hallway full of boxes and the whirlwind of his soon-to-be-ex-wife extricating herself from his life. He knows he isn't really dealing with it much better now than he did then. It is easier to deal when Bella visits though; her quietness is soothing and paradoxically fills the whole house. She'll arrive in two months and for the first time she's staying for the length of the summer.

When Charlie compares himself to Billy, he is aware that not only does he catch a hell of a lot less fish (Billy's tucking another into his creel just now) but that he's also a lot more of a loser. He has lost less but he is more of a loser.

Maybe it's because Billy still has three kids when all Charlie has is a shy Bella on loan from Arizona now and then. Or maybe it's because Billy has the tribe and the council when all Charlie has is the damned empty house.

Or maybe it's because Sarah was taken but Renee left of her own free will. Charlie's convinced this particular reason may well be what makes him more of a loser. Not that it's a competition just that he knows he's failing at moving on.

Too much introspection is also leading to a failure at catching fish so Charlie shuffles closer to Billy and asks what he's baiting his line with. Billy tells Charlie they're using the same thing. Charlie resigns himself to the fact that today even the fish don't like him.

_A/N – I adore Dwight Yoakam and his cover of this song - makes me nostalgic for a couple of 'good time' mates of mine! Not only that, Yoakam is a continued and uncompromising proponent of the "Bakersfield sound", a type of country music that came into being in California's honkytonks in the late 50s as a reaction to the slick, over-produced Nashville type of country. Bakersfield evolved over time and brought us the likes of __Gram Parsons, Emmylou Harris (more on her later!), Creedence Clearwater Revival and even rock bands like the Eagles._

* * *

><p><strong>|IX Sleep Well Tonight| |Bella|<br>**Artist: Kasey Chambers  
>Song: The Rain (Chambers © 2006)<p>

_I will try to break  
>Every habit that holds me<br>I will try to make everyone happy again  
>I will try to take anything you can throw at me<br>I will let the rain come in  
>I will try to face everything that scares me<br>I will try to trace  
>Everywhere that I've been<br>I will try to wait for all of the hearts to be mended  
>I will let the rain come in<em>

_And if I try too hard_  
><em>Or maybe not hard enough<em>  
><em>I'll be the one who says<em>  
><em>Its all gonna be OK<em>  
><em>And if it all falls down well its never gonna really matter<em>  
><em>Because the rain washes everything away<em>

I wake up with a lurch and my body pauses mid-startle in fear. There's a noise outside. It might be the rain. I'm telling myself it must be the rain. It's a slick, whistling, scratchy kind of noise that pushes against the darkness. It goes on and on so it has to be the rain.

I don't want to wake Charlie but I can't get back to sleep so I lie in bed and imagine the ceiling is a map and I'm sailing to all the places I want to see. Strangely though, instead of picturing Verona, Paris and the Yorkshire Moors, I think more of where I have already been. Not many places really, only Washington, California, Arizona and Florida. Wet, dry, dry and wet.

Soon my window is a steel grey instead of a nothing blackness. I wouldn't call it sunrise but it's the end of night time. Charlie is moving around. I hear him finish in the bathroom and head downstairs for breakfast. I'm not going to get anymore sleep; now that it's light the rain seems somehow noisier. Sighing, I drag myself out of bed and go through my morning routine hoping that I get used to the weather over the next month. Until this year, I've never visited Charlie for this length of time. I do like Forks, but four weeks without sleep could be a long time.

Downstairs over orange juice and strawberry jam on toast, Charlie tells me I look tired and asks if I'm ok. I say I am. He still looks concerned and asks if I'm not sleeping. I pause and in that time realise there's no point in lying. I tell him that the rain kept me awake last night.

Charlie laughs at me. He actually laughs. I guess I don't keep the hurt off my face very well because he apologies. He says sorry Bells, but for a ten year old who flies halfway across the country on her own, being scared of rain at night seems odd.

I'm defensive. I say I wasn't scared, it was just loud. Charlie says it's ok Bells, you'll get used to it.

He comes home from work in the evening with a bag. He pushes it across the table towards me and says it's all for you, honey. He never calls me that but it feels nice.

I open the bag. It contains a nightlight in the shape of a sun, two books and a rain jacket. I look up at Charlie and smile. I tell him, thanks daddy. I never call him that either but it feels nice too. He smiles back and strokes my hair. Open the books, he suggests, so I do. One is on the weather of the Pacific Northwest. The other is about how Indigenous people around the world address rain in their mythologies and creation stories.

I hug Charlie. He hugs me back quickly and as he lets go says you're not to stay up too late reading those tonight and make sure you don't read with just the nightlight on or you'll strain your eyes. I tell him ok. Then I ask if there's anything about the Quileutes in the mythology book. Charlie says he's not sure but if not I can ask Jake what rain means to the tribe when we go visit the Blacks tomorrow. I say ok again. Charlie gets up from the kitchen table and as he walks into the living room he says over his shoulder to me that Jake might like me in my new raincoat too. I frown at him.

Later that evening some time after dinner Charlie comes upstairs to make sure I'm ready for bed. He checks the nightlight is plugged in and working. He tucks me in carefully and gives me a whiskery kiss on the cheek. He says night night Bells, it's nice having you here, I hope you can sleep well tonight.

And I do.

_A/N – Kasey Chambers is a well-known Australian singer and songwriter. Born into a musical family, she spent her early years on the Nullarbor Plain (a big desert) with her dad who was shooting foxes (considered a feral and invasive species here needing population control). By the age of 16 she was the lead singer of the family band and released her first solo album six years later. Kasey's now a hugely successful country artist, both in her own right with five multi-platinum albums, and with her husband Shane Nicholson. The couple named their son Arlo after the American folk singer Arlo Guthrie._

* * *

><p><strong>|X – The Last Beer of Summer| |Billy &amp; Charlie|<br>**Artist: Montgomery Gentry feat. Hank Williams, Jr.  
>Song: I Ain't Got It All That Bad (Rivers Rutherford, George Teren, Jamie Lee Thurston © 2004)<p>

_I ain't got it all that bad  
>there's tougher lives I might have had,<br>Sometimes I live hand to mouth,  
>But there are those that go without,<br>Might be things I wish I had,  
>But when I look at where I'm at,<br>I ain't got it all that bad_

_I've got my sunshine and a few good friends I've found,_  
><em>A roof to give me shelter when the rain comes down,<em>  
><em>I've got tomorrow and the promise that it brings,<em>  
><em>A few chances still worth takin',<em>  
><em>And a dream that still has wings<em>

"We're lucky aren't we?" Billy asks.

Charlie tries not to look incredulously at his best friend, a widower in a wheelchair with a chronic disease, as he hands him a beer. But Billy's always been good at seeing through Charlie (hell, he could see through a suit of lead armour) so he explains what he means.

"We have good kids. That's something."

Charlie lowers himself into the Adirondack chair on Billy's porch. "Yeah," he says slowly, "we do." Charlie isn't actually feeling too lucky at the moment though, he misses Bella.

"You of all people oughta realise that, Chief!"

The police chief takes a long pull from his beer. "Sure. I guess I never really thought it could be our kids out there vandalising stuff, stealing cars, breaking and entering. You're right – it could be, but it isn't."

"It better not be, they're a bit young for those kind of tricks yet!" Billy laughs and rolls himself to the porch railing to look at a late summer dragonfly absorbing the last of the day's heat.

"I worry about Bella though. Phoenix is an awfully big city to grow up in, you know?"

"She'll be ok. That kid'll never even get a library book fine. Worst thing she'll probably ever do is break a few hearts without knowing it." Billy blows a puff of air at the dragonfly and it spirals out into the evening, wings backlit by the sunset.

"Yeah," Charlie acknowledges with a smile.

Bella is just _good_. Sometimes she seems a little old for her almost twelve years and sometimes far too young, but she's undeniably pretty in a fragile way. This too worries Charlie, especially when he has to put her on the plane back to Arizona like he did yesterday. She seems vulnerable but he knows anyone who has lived with Renee as long as Bella has can survive in the world.

The men finish their drinks in silence, watching the sun drift lazily down, cutting its time in the sky short as autumn approaches. Voices float up from the beach and gradually get louder. Charlie recognises the three boys who come into view as they pass the scrubby bushes at the edge of the Black's yard.

"Hey Dad, hey Charlie!" Jake says in casual greeting. His two friends hang back a little and he doesn't think to introduce them. Instead, he pauses on the porch steps before leading them into the house and looks at Charlie thoughtfully. "Did Bella catch her plane ok? Was she – was she alright?" he asks a little hesitantly.

"I think she was sad to go, son. She was quiet." Charlie replies.

Jake nods twice, his face solemn. Billy watches his boy with interest but says nothing. The kids bang through the screen door and one mentions something about getting popsicles. Charlie hears another voice say "What did Mr. Swan mean Bella was quiet? She's always quiet!"

Billy chuckles. "Embry's not wrong."

There's some thumping from inside the house and then the boys reappear on the porch slurping on their melting treats. "Where are Rachel and Rebecca?" Jake directs the question at his father around a mouthful of green slush.

"At the Clearwater's, they went to see Leah after lunch to organise their outfits for the first day of school tomorrow. Been there all afternoon. Probably trying to convince Leah to wear a dress." Billy supplies.

Jake rolls his eyes. "Come on guys, we'd better go rescue Seth."

Billy decides his son has forgotten any manners he may once have possessed and shows him up by saying "Charlie, the boys may know you as Bella's dad but I'd better introduce you properly to Embry Call and Quil Atera. Boys, this is Police Chief Swan."

Jake stops licking the dripping mess in his hands long enough to apologise for his rudeness. Quil offers Charlie a sticky hand with a "Pleased to meet you, Chief," while Embry bobs his head and says "Nice to meet you, sir."

Charlie asks the boys if they're looking forward to starting grade four tomorrow. They all frown and give the impression they think school is highly over rated. Billy laughs. "No healthy kid looks forward to school, Charlie."

"No way!" Quil confirms enthusiastically.

Jake is bouncing on the spot, clearly eager to find out what havoc is being wrecked at the Clearwater household. But as the others scamper off, he hangs back a moment, "Can you say hi to Bella for me next time you talk to her, please Charlie?"

"Sure thing, kid."

With that settled, Jake runs to catch up with his friends and all three wave gummy fingers at Billy and Charlie, calling out behind them "See you Charlie, bye Mr. Black, bye Mr. Swan."

"Don't stay out too late Jake, school tomorrow." Billy yells after his son who answers with a groan.

The two men settle back into their companionable silence on Billy's porch. After a moment Charlie says "I think Bella was looking forward to school."

"Girls are different, Charlie, I don't think they mind school as much. Those three boys just can't stand being cooped up. Still, they're good kids. I'm doubly lucky Jake's got a nice group of friends to hang around with."

Charlie realises he doesn't know who Bella hangs around with for the 10 months of the year he doesn't see her. He doesn't feel lucky at all. He tries not to worry about it and pushes the thought out of his mind as he catches the sound of footsteps and someone whistling.

"That'll be Harry escaping the females," Billy says as Charlie cocks a questioning eyebrow at him.

"Come on, Swan, who else around here walks down the road whistling _The Devil Went Down to Georgia_? You don't have to be a cop to have simple powers of deductive reasoning!"

"Speak of the devil and the devil shall appear," Harry's voice comes around the corner of Billy's house, followed by his big, tan figure. He hops the porch railing and asks "What do we say to one last Labor Day weekend beer, boys?"

It's not like Billy and Charlie are going to disagree so Harry's already on his way into Billy's kitchen to the fridge when he says "My shout, then."

He returns and there are three soft hisses as the bottles are opened. Harry settles into the chair opposite Charlie, closes his eyes and sinks half his beer in one swig. "Consider yourself lucky, Chief. Your daughter is good. Mine is a hellion." But he says it with a smile.

"What'd they get up?" Billy includes his own daughters in the question by implication. He's not certain he wants to hear Harry's answer as he picks at the label on his beer bottle.

"You don't want to know. I don't even know. It cumulated with forcefully painting Seth's nails pink. Sue found him crying because no one had any nail polish remover to take it off before school tomorrow so she sent the girls to the Littlesea's to borrow some. That's when I escaped. I warned Jake, Embry and Quil when I passed them on the street that they were entering the hellmouth but they didn't seem to mind."

Billy roars with laughter and says "That's not too bad then. Nothing like that time with the cat, the red paint and the noodles."

Charlie's eyebrows disappear into his hairline. This kind of mess sounds worse than criminal activity to him and he suddenly realises he is reasonably lucky, even if he currently misses his daughter.

"Nope, not as bad," Harry says, "but bad enough that I needed this beer."

"Any time, buddy, any time," Billy answers.

The three sit in silence again as dusk takes over the evening. Their hushed friendship is as palpable on the cooling air as the approach of autumn.

_A/N - Yeah, more Hank, I know, I know (be forewarned, this ain't the half of it!). So what do we reckon? Reviews are nice..._


	4. Section 4: Drabbles XI to XIII

Like bushranger Ned Kelly, I'm a-stealin' for a cause and poking fun at the establishment. It's not a good way to get wealthy therefore props go to artists and authors. I went to a seminar on intellectual property and the collective commons last week, in case anyone's wondering why I'm suddenly concerned about this! Copyright law is weirdly interesting. At least to my strange little mind. Anyhoo, without further delay, here's the 4th chunk of TWCC...

* * *

><p><strong>|XI – Dreamworks Studios Presents…| |Jake|<br>**Artist: Conway Twitty  
>Song: That's My Job (Gary Burr © 1987)<p>

_I woke up crying late at night  
>when I was very young.<br>I had dreamed my father  
>had passed away and gone.<em>

_My world revolved around him_  
><em>I couldn't lay there anymore.<em>  
><em>So I made my way down the mirrored hall<em>  
><em>and tapped upon his door.<em>

_And I said "Daddy, I'm so afraid_  
><em>how will I go on with you gone that way?<em>  
><em>Don't wanna cry anymore<em>  
><em>so may I stay with you?"<em>

_And he said "That's my job,_  
><em>that's what I do.<em>  
><em>Everything I do is because of you,<em>  
><em>To keep you safe with me.<em>  
><em>That's my job you see."<em>

We're driving along the 101, heading south. The ocean's to our right: big, blue and deceptively calm with a glittering blanket of sunlight over it. On the other side of the road, pines come down to a sheer cliff above us and a rock face meets the gravel shoulder of the north-bound lane.

It's warm and bright. I roll the window down; the air has a promising, fresh tang to it.

I'm in the front because my sisters wanted to finish some magazine quiz together in the back seat. Mostly I stare out over the vast Pacific but sometimes I glance to my left at Mom driving. She catches my eye, smiles, puts her hand on my knee and squeezes. Up ahead the road curves sharply inland and I lose my view of the water.

Instead, I see a dark log truck flying around the turn towards us. It's moving fast but it seems like there's plenty of time for the driver to correct and pass us. Mom pulls her hand off my leg and grabs the wheel tightly while leaning on the horn. The sound is loud but my brain distances itself from the noise and focuses on the truck driver's face. White. Panicked. He has no control over twenty tons of Kenworth.

We swerve right and then the car is airborne. It's a strange, timeless sensation: we're floating and plummeting all in the same frozen moments. I struggle against something, someone is screaming. I'm thrashing, trapped; falling down, down, down and landing on my back with a wooden jerk.

There is a strange, rasping moan. Can't breathe. Can't tell if my eyes are open or closed, it's too dark. Something shakes me. I'm still trapped.

"Jake." I hear a voice from far away.

"Jake, come on, you're ok."

I can suck air into my lungs now. There's silence and I'm being shaken again. "Jake, son, wake up." Silence. Air. The raspy sound repeats. Open eyes.

It wasn't real.

Dad is reaching across me trying to untangle the blankets from around my arms and legs. I pull away so he can't see the tears on my face.

"How'd it happen tonight Jake?" he is careful in how he asks but I know what he means.

"Same as reality, car crash," I mumble into my pillow.

Sometimes I dream Mom gets shot. Sometimes she drowns. Other times she's lost and I search endlessly for her. The end is always the same: she's dead and gone. It's not real but it's the same as reality.

"Oh son," Dad pulls his rough hands through my hair and sits heavily on the bed beside me. "You can cry in front of me, it's ok."

I don't say anything. It's not ok. I'll be thirteen in three months. Teenagers don't cry. I can't remember the last time I saw any of my friends cry.

Eventually Dad leans down and kisses the back of my head. He switches the lamp off and I hear him get up and limp to the door. Just before he leaves he says "She didn't go because she wanted to, Jake."

xxx

This time there are two bodies.

I'm walking to Quil's house when I find the corpses are lying in the middle of the road. They're perfect but pale and still, eyes wide.

One gets up and drifts over to where I'm stuck, unable to run away or scream for help. It's Mom. She moves past without seeing me. She looks as airless as my lungs feel as she passes to the forest where the trees swallow her.

The other body rises more slowly, it is heavier and less graceful. It comes to halt in front of me. It's Dad. His blank eyes lock with mine and he tilts his head gradually to one side as if assessing my paralysed state. "We left because we wanted to, Jake," he says in a disinterested monotone and then he evaporates.

For the second time in the night I wake up shaking and cold, sweating and terrified. At least I didn't scream this time. I get up and head to the bathroom for a glass of water. I stop outside Dad's room. It can't hurt to check. Cracking the door, I look in. He's sleeping on one side, I can just make out his shoulders in the dark.

I stand in the doorway listening to Dad's breathing for so long that my feet go cold. Making my way into the room as quietly as I can, I sit on the rocking chair with my legs curled under me. Dad once told me this was the chair where Mom nursed us as babies during the night. The wood feels smooth and oddly warm.

xxx

A sharp pain in my neck wakes me. It's light outside and Dad's bed is empty. Feeling sheepish, I go back to my own room, dress and head to the kitchen.

Waffles greet me. My sisters must have made them. Sleepily I realise they're nowhere to be seen and then remember it's Sunday morning and they spent last night at Leah's. Dad pulls himself up and shuffles over. He hugs me so hard I nearly have to tell him it hurts.

"How'd you know how to make these, old man?" I ask once he lets go.

"Got a few tricks up my sleeve. Like being able to read a recipe book." He nods to the counter. I see Mom's old _Joy of Cooking_ sitting next to the waffle iron.

"Oh," is all I can spit out.

Dad smiles a brave smile. "Go easy on the syrup, Jake. Don't want you ending up diabetic like me," he says.

_A/N – Conway Twitty's real name was __Harold Lloyd Jenkins. There's debate about how he ended up with his stage name. Some say __he felt his real name wasn't cool enough so he looked at a map and saw Conway, Arkansas and Twitty, Texas. Others say his manager suggested he 'borrow' the name from a real man named W. Conway Twitty, Jr. All we know is that he had the most number one singles of any kind with 55 Billboard Country hits until 2006 when another country star, George Strait, broke the record. (How was my Jeremy Clarkson Stig-esque intro? Bet you never knew a fanmix could include so many references to unrelated crap!)_

* * *

><p><strong>|XII – A New Life| |Rebecca|<br>**Artist: Johnny Chester  
>Song: I Love You So Rebecca (Chester © 1979)<p>

_'Cause I love you so, Rebecca  
>My-y heart's aglow, Rebecca<br>And so you know, Rebecca  
>I'll tell you each and every day<br>Right by your side, Rebecca  
>My-y love won't hide, Rebecca<br>Or be kept inside, Rebecca  
>I want the world to see<em>

_Now I look into your eyes, once again I'm hypnotised  
>I can hardly hear the words the preacher's sayin'<br>Then I hear you say I do, as I pledge my love to you  
>Oh I know you are the answer to all my pray-ayin'<br>In your gown of satin lace, as the veil falls from your face  
>The kiss we share shows how our life will be<br>Oh Rebecca, you taught me how to live  
>You had some lovin' you had to give<br>And I'm so glad you gave it all to me_

Dad,

I'd have mailed you a copy of the wedding invitation for your family scrapbook but we didn't have time to get any printed. Hopefully by now you'll have seen the photos Rachel brought back with her. We had beautiful weather, but then this is Hawaii so it's almost always perfect!

I know you're probably mad at me or disappointed but I won't apologise for falling in love with someone. I saw what you and Mom had and always wanted the same for myself.

Solomon says hi. He picked this card – it's Pele, the Hawaiian goddess of lightning, dance, fire and volcanoes. His family says I make them think of her. There's no higher compliment in their culture. Solomon's really looking forward to meeting you and swapping stories. He's a great man Dad, I hope you can see him for that. I promise we'll get some nice invitations for the ceremony in La Push!

Love you, Bec

_A/N – the local country station plays this song by Aussie singer Chester nearly every night at the same time, 10pm. No idea why! It's uber tacky so of course I couldn't resist it. Because I don't really agree with Rebecca eloping (for a lot of reasons that I won't get into here) I wasn't going to include it in this story but the song sort of made me do it! If in doubt, always blame the music! I'd like to think that if they did get married at least Solomon'd be a good bloke and love Bec. Go see the postcard I found for this too - it's at http : / / pics (dot) livejournal (dot) com/ kirstyvega/ pic/ 0000703c/g11_

* * *

><p><strong>|XIII – Grown Up| |Renee|<br>**Artist: Martina McBride  
>Song: Teenage Daughters (McBride, Brad Warren, Brett Warren © 2011)<p>

_I ain't complainin'  
>But I'm tired, so I'm just sayin'<br>What I think  
>And if we're being honest<br>Then honestly I think I need a drink_

_My baby's growin' up  
>She thinks she's fallin' all in love<br>And that I hate her  
>At seventeen, she's just like me when I was seventeen<br>So I don't blame her_

My daughter twirls aimlessly on the kitchen barstool. She's done it since she was little so she falls off less now than she used to. I still can't believe she's not little anymore.

"Charlie said Rebecca Black got married this summer."

"What? Shoot - yuck, now I've made a mess. Don't tell me disastrous things like that while I'm employing fine motor skills, Bella." The cake for Phil's thirty-fifth is just going to have to have two baseballs on it. There's no way I can get rid of the extra blue dot of icing I dropped on it in my surprise. Regardless, I'm pretty proud of my effort, the cake decorating classes paid off.

Looking at Bella I see she's thoughtful in a dreamy sort of way. "That's terrible news, honey," I tell her. "Rebecca can't be much older than you."

Bella frowns at me. I have noticed she does that a lot lately.

"You ought to know how old the twins are, Mom. You went to their naming ceremony with Charlie. I've seen the photos. Jake showed me. And besides, I think it's romantic. Rebecca found someone she loved and couldn't bear to be separated from him."

Bella seems determined to remind me about that part of my life I try to forget. Of course, it resulted in her so it's wasn't all bad. But I'm still very much against early marriage though and she needs to know that.

"I can't remember everything Bella. It was a long time ago." I pray she doesn't see the lameness in my statement. I should know better – all teenagers have highly sensitive built-in lameness detectors. Even Bella.

"Ok," is all she says. I'm suspicious.

My daughter twirls on the stool again and then eats some icing off the bench top. "Don't be getting any ideas Bella. You don't know yourself until you're at least twenty five – "

"Yeah, yeah, I know, Mom. Commit to yourself first. Live your own life. Share it later when you know what you have to offer. No kids before thirty. Got it."

I can't criticise Bella for aptly summarising my thoughts on relationships. "Yes, you got it, girl," I tell her instead. Reaffirmation is an important parenting skill.

I expect some kind of protest but instead there's silence. Another twirl and then she says blandly "I think I should go live with Charlie after Christmas."

I drop a spoon. Luckily it misses the cake. "What? No, Bella, why honey? You know we both love you, you can stay here with me while Phil plays the spring exhibition games then we can all go on the road over the summer." We've talked about this. It's the compromise that keeps everyone happy.

"I talked to Charlie about it last week. He's happy to have me. He's getting the high school to send transfer papers for you to sign for next semester."

I don't know what to say so I busy my hands cleaning icing off the pipetting set. It would seem Bella's mind is already made up. I don't get consulted, only told. It's always been like this: ever since Bella was a child she and Charlie would organise what weeks or months she was visiting him and then they'd tell me. Somewhere along the line I got left out of their loop and I don't know why.

I look at my daughter who gives the stool one last twirl and then stands up to go. I know I won't change her stubborn mind but I still don't understand why she's going like this. Then something occurs to me.

"It's not about a boy is it Bella? You didn't meet someone in Forks last summer who you haven't told me about? You haven't got ideas from Rebecca, have you? No plans to elope with Jake or anyone else?"

"Geez Mom, NO! Jake's not even fifteen, that's gross. I just want you and Phil to be able to do your thing. And I want to spend some more time with Charlie. Ok?"

I have no choice but to agree. Bella's always had all these logical arguments I can't compete with. I go for the old positive reaffirmation trick. "Ok sweetie, it's your decision. But the deadlines have just been pushed back – no marrying until you're sixty and no boyfriends until you're thirty!"

"I have homework to do, Mom." I can hear the eye roll in her voice as she walks up the stairs.


	5. Section 5: Drabbles XIV to XVII

To change up my opening remarks a little, this is from William L. Stull's biographical essay on Raymond Carver:

"...Carver maintained that great literature is life-connected, life-affirming, and life-changing. 'In the best fiction,' he wrote 'the central character, the hero or heroine, is also the 'moved' character, the one to whom something happens in the story that _makes a difference_. Something happens that changes the way that character looks at himself and hence the world.'"

Who might Carver be, you ask? A native of the Pacific Northwest (ah, beginning to see the connection now?) Carver was a poet and short story writer considered one of the major American authors of the later 20th century. He is known for reinventing himself and his work many times over: from his blue-collar origins to his standing as a touted author; from a minimal Hemingway-esque style to more expansive, optimistic work; from stylized stories to intimate poems; from a father of two at twenty to a near-dead alcoholic writer at forty to a respected and sober artist at his early death at fifty.

Carver's tombstone in the Ocean View Cemetery in Port Angeles, WA is inscribed with his self-referential poem _LATE FRAGMENT_

_And did you get what  
><em>_you wanted from this life, even so?  
><em>_I did.  
><em>_And what did you want?  
><em>_To call myself beloved, to feel myself  
><em>_beloved on the earth._

I adore those lines.

So, dear readers, do we think that perhaps the reason we love Jake is because so much happens to him that _makes a difference_ in his life? No one else in the book actually goes through much we can really relate to (or so I find). Sure, Bella falls in love & Eddie leaves and there are a few non-battles but that feels rather contrived and based on flimsy logic. Jake, though, not only has he already lost his mother, he falls in love with a broken friend who is too blinded by her view of fate to appreciate him. Add to that a whole future and life that shifts dramatically when he becomes a wolf and we have Carver's 'moved' character, the hero of the story. And maybe this is why we all dislike thebookthatshallnotbenamed so much: because the character who _should_ be the hero of the entire series gets massively shafted. (Not that I'm biased!) Thoughts?

With that, it is onwards and upwards to the fifth part of TWCC in which the entire novel Twilight is reinvented in 4 drabble-like sections. I did try for minimalism but that's beyond my grasp, having verbal diarrhoea and all ;) The diarrhoeea may be mine but everything here belongs to the people who have the © after their names.

**|XIV – Christmas and Change| |Billy & Jake|  
><strong>Artist: Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young  
>Song: Teach Your Children (Graham Nash © 1968)<p>

_And you (Can you hear and)  
>Of tender years (Do you care and)<br>Can't know the fears (Can you see we)  
>That your elders grew by (Must be free to)<br>And so please help (Teach your children)  
>Them with your youth (You believe and)<br>They seek the truth (Make a world that)  
>Before they can die (We can live in)<em>

_Teach your parents well_  
><em>Their children's hell<em>  
><em>Will slowly go by<em>  
><em>And feed them on your dreams<em>  
><em>The one they picks<em>  
><em>The one you'll know by.<em>

_Don't you ever ask them why_  
><em>If they told you, you would cry<em>  
><em>So just look at them and sigh<em>  
><em>And know they love you.<em>

"Your present's outside Jake."

"Phew! Thanks, Dad. I was worried it looked a bit bare under the tree and for a minute there thought I wasn't getting anything."

"We're not that poor and you're not so bad that you don't get a present!"

"Haha Dad. I keep you alive. Of course I'm not bad. Where outside is it?"

"True. Side yard."

"'K, just gonna grab my boots.

"Sure, it looks pretty cold and wet out there."

"Holy SHIT, Dad! What the… Wow! Thanks! This is amazing! Where'd you find an '86 Rabbit and how'd it get here? It is an '86 isn't it?"

"Glad you like it, son. Harry knew a guy who said it was going for scrap. He and Sam dropped it off last night after you went bed. Yeah, it's older than you by a few years so I guess it could be an '86. The papers are inside, you can look at them later."

"You know you're the best dad ever, right?"

"Sure, sure. Thanks kid. I'll remind you of that if I ever have to ground you. It doesn't run though, needs a lot of work."

"Not a problem, I can fix it easy."

"Not right now though. You got a year before you can drive it so can take your time. Anyway, come on, get inside, I'm freezing my ass off up here on the porch."

"Is that your way of saying you want your present, you old fart?"

"Maybe! Need coffee too. It's going to be a long day if we're having dinner with the Clearwaters tonight."

"Yeah, can't wait to spend another evening listening to Leah slam doors and yell down the phone. Or do you think she'll give it a rest because it's Christmas? Here, this is for you."

"Be nice to her Jake, she's going through something hard. Wow, a new glucose meter. That'll come in handy. Thanks for looking out for your old man."

"Nah, that's from the girls. Sue's idea. Because they're not here to really look after you. This one's from me."

"Jake, this is… I, um. Unbelievable. I had no idea when I taught you to carve you'd get so good at it so fast. This looks exactly like her."

"You thinks so, Dad? It's hard for me to remember all the little details. Sue had to help me with it too. She gave me some old photos taken from different angles."

"It's perfect, son. This statue is exactly like Sarah, like your mother…"

"Merry Christmas, Dad."

"Merry Christmas, kid. Now, how about some grub and caffeine?"

"Sounds good."

"Can you get it started? I'm just going to call Charlie. I think first thing on Christmas morning is always the worst time of year for him."

"Yeah, hardly the best day to wake up in an empty house. Say hi to him for me. You want French toast or pancakes?"

"French toast. And coffee!"

"Yeah, yeah. I get it."

"You're getting better at not burning things Jake."

"Thanks old man. Didn't learn that from you. More coffee? How was the Chief?"

"No, still got half a cup. Charlie was surprisingly good. He said Bella's moving here."

"WHAT? When?"

"Easy Jake, you'll choke. She's starting school in January at Forks High so she'll be here just after New Years."

"How'd it slip Charlie's mind to tell us that until now?"

"He didn't want to say anything until it was all official."

"Official?"

"Custody papers. School transfers. Renee. Paperwork."

"Ah, right. Got it. But why's Bella coming here now? Who'd move to Forks in the middle of winter?"

"Renee's husband plays ball for a living, travels a lot, Renee has to stay behind because of Bella-"

"So her own shitty mother is booting her out? That's so damned-"

"No Jake. Geez. You wana wipe up all those crumbs you've just sprayed everywhere? Charlie said it was Bella's idea so Renee could be with Phil."

"That's – well, awful nice of Bella to do that for her mother."

"She's a nice girl. Always has been."

"I know Dad."

* * *

><p><strong>|XV – My Love| |Edward|<br>**Artist: Keith Urban  
>Song: Your Everything (Chris Lindsey, Bob Regan © 2000)<p>

_The first time I looked in your eyes I knew  
>That I would do anything for you<br>The first time you touched my face I felt  
>Like I've never felt with anyone else<em>

_I wanna give back what you've givin' to me_  
><em>And I wanna witness all of your dreams<em>  
><em>Now that you've shown me who I really am<em>  
><em>I wanna be more than just your man<em>

We think in years, not days. We spend so long on this earth passing through change but we, ourselves, change so very little. She is my love.

Yet when I met her, everything slowed down to microseconds and I changed so profoundly I felt I entered the third phase of my life. I was a man, I existed as a vampire, but now I am in love. She is my love.

I can recall each of our moments together flawlessly. Sometimes, when we are apart, I play them like a slide show over and over in my mind to reassure myself that she does love me the same way I love her. She is my love.

The moments are encapsulated by emotions. Deep, powerful emotions. Like anything to do with my Bella, the feelings run right through the centre of my being. I think of my anger at Jasper's instinctive thought of "fresh blood" when we first saw her in the cafeteria. My shock at Alice's vision. My frustration at the mental silence from her. My thirst in that initial biology class. My isolation and fear when I realised what she was to me. My acceptance at the curveball "life" had thrown me. My satisfaction at watching her sleep. My shock at her calm understanding of my true nature. My utter peace in the meadow. My undeserving humbleness in the face of her love. My bliss and desire when we kiss. She is my love.

Each of these feelings occupies me when we are apart and every microsecond of Bella-laced perfection overshadows the decades of her absence in my life. I must keep her safe, even if from myself. She is my love.

_A/N – He might be an Aussie but there's something about Keith that weirds me out, just like Eddie does. In both cases I suspect it relates, in part, to their hair. In Keith's case, I think it makes him look like the Paddlepop Lion gone wrong. (That's also a derogatory likeness ascribed to Nickleback's lead singer here in Aus). Anyway…how perfect is that line about face touching? Our man Dan would be so proud! Writing from Vamp-o-view was, shall we say, interesting. I had to employ my sarcasm sensor overtime – the temptation to take the piss was massive. Except vamps don't piss, so I don't know how that would have gone ;)_

* * *

><p><strong>|XVI – On Duty| |Charlie|<br>**Artist: Rodney Atkins  
>Song: Cleaning This Gun (Come On in Boy) (Casey Beathard, Marla Cannon-Goodman © 2006)<p>

_Come on in boy, sit on down  
>And tell me 'bout yourself<br>So you like my daughter, do you now  
>Yeah we think she's something else<br>She's her daddy's girl, her momma's world  
>She deserves respect, that's what she'll get<br>Now ain't it son, y'all go out, have some fun  
>I'll see you when you get back<br>Probably be up all night  
>Still cleaning this gun<em>

It's been a long week. You're tired as you unlock the door, step inside, take off your boots and hang up your gun belt. You brought home some paperwork you should tackle. Normally you would, but today – well, screw it, you think. A man can have one night off.

You grab a beer and settle into your recliner, flipping channels until you settle on the news but it's all about crime rates in Seattle and you don't really want to watch it. There's too much bad shit happening in the world, and at home recently too, so you turn the TV off and get up to find something to keep your hands.

The toaster's been burning things recently so you take it apart, clean its guts and put it back together. You test it out on your dinner – much better, nicely browned. A second beer washes down the toast and you need another job.

You reorganise your tackle box. It needed that clean out. You haven't been fishing much lately though; Billy's been conspicuously distant. You worry about his health and whether it's worth nagging him one more time about going to the hospital. He was so damned good to you when Renee left that you owe it to him in the long run, even if he doesn't want to hear it now.

It's only 8pm. You really can't turn in just yet so you try the TV again but there are no teams playing that you care about. Outside, a car goes past and you watch the headlights through the window, your gaze travelling to the hallway. You see your gun belt hanging up and, standing, kill the TV for the second time tonight. Here's the job you've been looking for: something that takes both a long time and your mind off things.

Grabbing the cleaning kit from the hall closet, you take your gun into the kitchen and put it on the table. You smile sadly at the memory of how this used to annoy Renee. She always said there was something obscene about a gun in the kitchen.

Carefully, you dip the bore brush in cleaning solvent and push it into the barrel. You run a cleaning patch through and then repeat the process. The rhythm and repetition pacify you.

You remember Bella, as a child on one of her summer visits, watching you do this, eyes wide with curious fear. Has that gun ever killed anyone, she asked nervously. Nope, you told her with a grin. Then why are you cleaning it, she wondered aloud. Because all tools need care and maintenance Bells, you answered her, this is just a tool of my trade. So you're not cleaning blood off of it then, she said in shaky relief. Of course not kiddo, this is just like changing the oil in the car, you reassured her. Ok, she said and returned to her book.

You clean the cylinders and extractor rod with a brush and some solvent, then with a patch and more solvent. You wipe the extra liquid off meticulously.

You think about the year you taught Jake to shoot. You'd have liked raising a boy like him, or even a tomboy daughter like Leah. Bella, as much as you love her, has never had any interest in outdoorsy things like hunting and fishing. You learned that the hard way long ago but Jake made a good substitute son. He was eager to learn, Billy wanted him taught to do things the right way and you had plenty of knowledge to pass on.

Billy and Harry thought if the kids learned to respect firearms in their teens, it was better than dangerous ignorance. So you set up a shooting range on the rez and spent a lot of Sundays down there with the boys and Leah. Of course they always tried to bugger off at the end of the day when you told them to clean the guns. Except Jake. He was fascinated by the mechanics of bolt action and once tried to completely disassemble Billy's old .22.

You smile again as you rub gun oil all over the revolver except the hand grips. Jake is such a good kid, unlike that smarmy Cullen wanker. Maybe, a small voice in your head says to you, you're cleaning your gun because you're so pissed off about everything Cullen's done recently. Your smile is gone now.

The police revolver is done so you put it away. Thinking about Cullen has set you on edge again; the peace you found in cleaning your handgun is gone. Might as well keep going though, you think. You grab your keys, head down to the basement, unlock the gun safe and bring your rifles back upstairs.

The .410 is filthy. It takes a good half hour of work to get the barrel right. As you polish you consider what your daughter yelled at you that night last month when she ran away: Just let me go Charlie.

Is that what you were meant to do in life? Let go of the people you love? You know it isn't good to think like this and you can hear Billy's voice in your head telling you to get your shit together.

Savagely, you stab the long barrel of the .410. At least Bella came back, even if it was with a broken leg and that annoying, pasty boyfriend still in tow. She is not dead and she is not gone, despite your worst fears over those terrifying few days. Sue Clearwater told you if this is the worse thing Bella ever does as a teenage girl, you are doing ok.

Still, there's something _off _about that Cullen kid. You are royally pissed that no matter what you say to Bella, she won't stop seeing him. You know you've been rude to him which embarrasses her and is a little unfair because it's not like he pushed her out that window in Phoenix. Surely not? His father, the doctor, is too good a man to have raised a savage like that, you tell yourself soothingly. Still, you conclude as you finish the shotgun, it's partly Cullen's fault Bella got hurt. And no one ever said you had to like your daughter's boyfriend.

You look at the kitchen clock. It's 10.20pm; they should be home soon. You start on the old .308 Winchester hunting rifle just as you hear the front door open. Bella wobbles in and Paleface follows her, nearly running into her back as she stops dead and looks at you in shock. You suppose that perhaps a man sitting in his kitchen surrounded by guns may be an alarming sight. But you grin, shove a cleaning rod down the .308 and say just a little evilly to the boy behind her, "Thanks for bringing my daughter home on time this time."

_A/N – On the count of three – one, two, three: mass snorgles for the man with the moustache who we all love!_

* * *

><p><strong>|XVII – Prom's Not So Bad| |Bella|<br>**Artist: Shania Twain  
>Song: Forever and For Always (Robert John "Mutt" Lange, Twain © 2002)<p>

_In your arms I can still feel the way you want me when you hold me  
>I can still hear the words you whispered when you told me<br>I can stay right here forever in your arms_

_And there ain't no way-_  
><em>I'm lettin' you go now<em>  
><em>And there ain't no way-<em>  
><em>and there ain't no how<em>  
><em>I'll never see that day...<em>

_'Cause I'm keeping you forever and for always_  
><em>We will be together all of our days<em>  
><em>Wanna wake up every morning to your sweet face—always<em>

1 June 2004

Wow. I haven't written in my journal in a long time but so much has happened of late and I have so much to say that I'm not sure where to start. I guess it makes sense to begin with prom then work my way backwards through recent events.

Never having wanted to or planned on attending prom, I can't compare the experience to any expectations because I didn't have any. Not positive ones anyway. I thought the whole event would be tedious at best, excruciating at worst. Being there with Edward though – no moment spent with him could ever be described as tedious however extenuating the circumstances! Sure, I'd rather not have been dolled up in Alice's over-the-top blue concoction or THE stiletto from hell but dancing and swirling magically with Edward made up for the costume torture.

What it didn't make up for was my unfulfilled desire and expectation that Edward would change me. I genuinely thought it would happen then and there that night. If the tables were turned, if I was the vampire, the one with the power to give him eternity and he wanted it, I would grant his wish without question. Of course, it would be selfish of me – if I was a vampire and he a human I'd want him to be with me forever! But if it is something both parties crave, then it is mutual and how can that be seen as selfishness?

Edward says staying human is for my benefit but how can he know? He is not me, and he was seventeen when Carlisle rescued him so what would I be losing that he did not gain at this age? I suppose his riposte to that would be Renee and Charlie. To me, however, that pales in comparison to what I stand to lose if he doesn't turn me. I could lose him, his love, his perfection. Those are the very things my life is about now, what it orbits around, so if I lose them, I lose my life. In essence, either being changed or remaining human, I lose life. If he changes me, I lose life but gain an eternity. If he doesn't change me, I will lose the centre of my life, him, and therefore my life itself. Really, it's not much of a comparison so I don't see why he has such a problem with it.

Oh, one moment… I need to go find that big knitting needle Renee gave me to scratch underneath my cast… There, all better now, much less itchy!

This cast is such a pain but James (even the name makes me shudder now) breaking my leg was exponentially more painful. And the bite. Ugh. This scar on my hand is quite disconcerting. I honestly wouldn't mind having a cold, vampiric scar if it came from someone I loved. Still, as it is, I carry it as a reminder of how Edward had the strength to save me. When I look at it, I think of what Edward did for me, rather than what James was trying to do. Edward asked me to remember not to act selfishly and on impulse every time I look at the scar. Somehow I think he had a hidden agenda and was trying to remind me how painful it was to have venom in my veins. As if that would dissuade me from joining him for all of time!

It's oddly lonely in this room without Edward here tonight; this is the first time he hasn't been with me in so long. I know he has to go hunt so I don't begrudge his time spent seeking food or with his family but I still feel a little forlorn and isolated. Our nights together have helped ease from my mind the distressing memories of what happened in Phoenix. Of course Edward laughed at Charlie grounding me and my curfew but he's been supremely conscientious about conforming to the newly imposed rules. For that, I can't complain. Nor can I complain that Edward's scruples about complying with Charlie's wishes don't extend as far as staying out of my room every night after Charlie thinks I've gone to sleep! Regardless, I wish Edward didn't have to leave me tonight.

And Charlie – well, I know what I said and did to him was inexcusable. I have apologised and will continue my contrition and repentance. There is no way I can give him a true explanation of what happened or why I was forced to act so severely. While this is for his benefit, I hate lying to him. The look on his face that night will be forever engraved on my heart and I can tell he is not convinced that everything that happened was solely due to a fight between Edward and I. Having said that, Charlie is certainly happy enough to blame Edward for what transpired as much as is humanly possible. Thankfully, Edward's not human! I guess vampires still make decent scapegoats though. If there was some way to explain things that didn't make me look crazy, didn't betray the secrets of Edward's family and wouldn't stretch Charlie's version of reality beyond the incredulous, then I would surely tell Charlie my anger and unhappiness that night was nothing to do with him or living here in his house. Alas, life is not that simple!

Nevertheless, what is simple is my love for Edward and his for me. Simple in that I know it is the only thing in life that matters now. What happened that day in the meadow when we realised the depth and breadth of our feelings for one another is too precious and astounding for me to attempt to put into words now. Or perhaps ever. I am convinced Alice has seen something relating to our future because of the commitment Edward and I made to each other that day. Moreover, I am convinced Edward has seen what she has seen and his unwillingness to share with me is extremely frustrating. If we are to be together, we must share these things!

I find it interesting how easily Edward's family has accepted me into their inner sanctum. They seem to have no fear of sharing their lives and stories with me. It is equally interesting (although perhaps that isn't the right word, exasperating may be a better choice!) how Charlie's old friend Billy Black is unable to recognize that the Cullens mean me no harm whatsoever. Sending poor, dear Jake to the prom was crafty and cunning of Billy, to say the least, yet I am unsure exactly how he expected Jake's presence to cause me a change of heart! Whoever says old women are meddlesome has clearly never had to deal with old men!

Old men. That brings me back to what Edward should be. But he is not. It is my deepest, clearest wish that so too should I retain my youth for eternity. Not for vanity's sake but for Edward's in order that I may hold him every day from now until the end of days. On that note, I'll end this entry. I'm all written out and can not wait for sleep to come claim me into a land of dreams full of my Edward.

_A/N – Sorry guys. I used a Shania song. That's a really serious sin for anyone who likes music (as opposed to muzak). But you know something? My level of animosity towards Shania (who happens to be Canadian - why am I admitting to that embarrassing similarity between us?) is fairly similar to that which I feel for Bella so it's all good. It's kind of a neat little 'take that, you popular yet despicable sell-out!' from me to someone who'll never know about it! I had to redeem myself slightly by posting the link to the version with Alison Krauss and her band Union Station. Alison's a rocking bluegrass singer and fiddle player._


	6. Section 6: Drabbles XVIII to XX

Two milestones are contained herein: I (may have) achieved some kind of minimalism, at least in the first and third drabbles. Said third drabble is also the twentieth. Woah. For a commitment-o-phobe like me who never thought I'd write anything with more than five parts, that's kinda cool. Additionally, I'm pleased I didn't have to take too much of a break to get the next few sections worked out. Sanity seems to have returned and that's a good thing : )

Other than that, I'm just a lost cowgirl who doesn't even really own a pony anymore so I most definitely don't own these songs or characters.

* * *

><p><strong>|XVIII – Between Pity and Patience| |Sam|<br>**Artist: Bruce Cockburn  
>Song: Burden of the AngelBeast (Cockburn © 1992)

_From the lying mirror to the movement of stars  
><em>_Everybody's looking for who they are  
><em>_Those who know, don't have the words to tell  
><em>_And the ones with the words, don't know too well_

_Could be famine, could be the feast  
><em>_Could be the pusher, could be the priest  
><em>_Always ourselves we love the least  
><em>_That's the burden of the Angel Beast_

_Birds of paradise, birds of prey  
><em>_Here tomorrow, gone today  
><em>_Cross my forehead, cross my palm  
><em>_Don't cross me, or I'll do you harm_

It'd be nice if there was room for pity in my life.

I'd pity myself for what I have become. I'd pity my mother for marrying my drunken father and having a werewolf son. I'd pity Leah for tearing her heart apart because of something she won't ever understand. I'd pity Emily for tearing her face apart because of what I am.

I'd pity my freedom for being lost to my genes.

Instead, I worry.

I worry about Paul being a hothead and Jared being a joker. I worry about who else will be forced to join us. I worry if I am carrying this responsibility as the council expects. I worry about Jacob Black, the intended recipient of something he doesn't yet know exists.

I worry about the strength of our treaty for the safety of my people.

Worse than phasing alone last year and worse than discovering the stories were true was hearing Billy Black talk about Charlie Swan's daughter this spring. Pity bred with worry and the resulting snarl of anger, revulsion and horror that ran through all of us, both old men and wolves, was uncontrollable.

But there's nothing we can do. We are bound by the treaty Billy's grandfather signed with the coven. We are bound to duty so we run the borders, we watch, we wait and I worry. It's turning out to be a long goddamned summer.

The longest moment by far is overhearing Jacob tell his two friends how he'd gone into Newton's wanting to buy a new fishing rod for Billy's birthday. Apparently not only does the Swan girl work there now but she also kisses her "boyfriend" in the parking lot. Jacob's disappointment at the boyfriend part is going to seem trivial when he discovers what that _thing_ truly is.

In that minute of unintentional eavesdropping on a hot July night at a bonfire, I allow some pity for Jacob Black. And I worry that he won't make it through the next twelve months unaffected by this mess of who we are and what exists outside of our control.

_A/N – I simply adore this song by Canadian folksinger Cockburn and I'll be honest: I've always had a massive soft spot for Sam too! I had to put the two together; the fanvid even suits the drabble too. This interview is also perfect - from _Bruce Cockburn: Interior Motive _by Mike Boehm, Los Angeles Times, November 22, 1994: At the philosophic core of [the album] _Dart to the Heart _is a song about how humans tend to operate like animals in their worst moments, then show godly potential in their best. Cockburn calls it "Burden of the Angel/Beast," and says he isn't sure himself whether the angelic or the beastly occupies the greater part of human nature. "Today, I tend to think it's the latter, but it varies from day to day. It depends on the mood and what you've just encountered. I think we're just stuck with who we are, and [human nature] is always going to have both sides. I don't think we're redeemable in that sense. I think we are redeemed spiritually but in terms of our earthly existence, [that beastly potential] is always there, no matter how much you try to let yourself do good. We are the weird animals we are, and we seem to be straddling this gap with one foot in the animal world entirely and the other foot in something we've never been able to entirely define for ourselves."_

* * *

><p><strong>|XIX – Necessary Evil| |Edward|<br>**Artist: Big Kenny  
>Song: Go Your Own Way (William Kenneth Alphin, Ben Moody © 2009)<p>

_And I don't wanna be the one to leave,  
>And I don't wanna be the one to fall apart,<br>And I don't wanna hurt you anymore,  
>Maybe things have gone too far,<br>We're not the same, we're losing who we are,  
>Truth is all that's left to say,<br>Ya gotta go your own way,  
>Ya gotta go your own way<em>

_I breath it in,_  
><em>I bleed it out,<em>  
><em>I hear the words fall from your mouth,<em>  
><em>I see the tears fall from your eyes<em>

_It's hard to believe it's come to this,_  
><em>And if I had just one wish,<em>  
><em>I'd never have to say good-bye<em>  
><em>No, no, no<em>

"Are you sure? Absolutely sure, Edward?" my sister sighed at me as we pursued the guilty scent of her fleeing husband through the forest.

Ironic that she, the one always so sure of everything, would ask me this.

"It is the best. The best I can come up with, the best for us and most importantly, the best for her," I answered, aware I sounded like I was convincing both of us, not just Alice.

She frowned, her face a pucker as she jumped a fallen log. "It won't work, you know." There was no smugness in her voice, only sorrow, as she darted forward.

I ducked a branch I could have run through but I was not in the mood for more wanton destruction tonight. "Can you please stop looking? Bella is human and as such, she deserves no interference from us or our dubious gifts." I was terse for I felt, impossibly, tired. Perhaps it was just the stress of this evening's events getting to me.

I knew what Alice was going to say before it came out, and not because I could read her mind, but because it was the only logical thing to say in these troubled circumstances. "It is too late for that," she lamented, "too late for us not to interfere."

We took a left turn in the darkness, Jasper's scent growing stronger.

"I am well area of that, Alice, but I am also of the opinion that we must leave before we cause further damage. Besides, what alternative do you propose?"

Her pace slowed, she was concentrating on something in her mind. "I don't know Edward. You know was well as I do I'm not actually very good at making these kinds of decisions – too many years of relying on foresight. In this case my influence would only lead us into the circular logic you are trying to avoid."

Stopping her run mid-stride Alice looked up into the tangle of trees above us and was suddenly surer of herself. In her piping voice she called out "Get down from there, Jasper Whitlock. Right now! You're in no trouble but you will be if you keep running from me!"

I couldn't help but smile despite my inner turmoil – only Alice would order a major of the Confederate Army around like that. There was a streak of white, a soft thump from the hemlock in front of us and then, crestfallen, Jasper stood looking everywhere but my face. I could hear his scrambled, apologetic thoughts but ignoring them, I walked forward and embraced my brother in the middle of the woods. "Thank you," I told him as I let go.

"Wha – Edward, I, Bella – I am so sorry. Ugh, I can't believe –" Alice reached for Jasper's hand as I cut over his mumbling. "Thank you for giving me a reason to do what I have always known I must to do. Thank you for crystallizing this situation into something from which Bella might now understand she needs saving."

Jasper's pale brows climbed his forehead as he asked Alice, rather than me, "He's not, is he?"

Alice stroked his face with her free hand. She cast a troubled glance at me and then, focusing on her husband, put into words the choice I hadn't ever wanted to acknowledge would one day become a reality. "Yes. Edward feels it necessary to leave Bella for her own good."

Jasper broke Alice's gaze. Staring at me, I didn't have to be an empath or a mind reader to know the depth of his confusion. "But I _felt_ what you felt for her, Edward. I know how much you love her. How much she loves you, human even as she is. If I had to leave Alice…" Inside his mind the sentence didn't have a pretty ending.

The forest was silent around us. I could smell a faint trace of nocturnal creatures – mice, voles and the owl circling them – but they left us alone in the clearing; afraid of our presence as I had always wished Bella had been. Looking up into the vastness of the indigo sky, I saw an eternity to which I could damn no one else.

"Brother," I looked back at Jasper, "I _must_ do this. There are no alternatives except her death and I will not tolerate that." Mentally, I felt Jasper accepted the strength of my new resolve.

He held out his right hand and in the moonlight it was paler than usual. "Best of luck then, Edward. Please pass along my sincerest apologies to Bella." We gripped each other in a hard, formal handshake, a relic of Jasper's former life. Alice danced forward from his side, kissed my cheek and whispered "Please tell her I love her too."

Then they were both gone in a swirl of freshly fallen leaves, heading north.

I walked back to the house considering the girl I loved and concluded I was a fool to have given in to my impulses. A fool to have ever kissed her. A fool to have thought this could work. I now prayed to whatever god there might be that I was not a fool for thinking I could trick her into believing I wanted to leave her. Nearing the house, I overheard Carlisle tell Bella how he had 'saved' me. I wondered what he thought he was accomplishing with this tale. It would only serve to make the lies I had to tell her harder.

If I had a heart, it would have broken on the drive back to Bella's house. As it was, I felt the stone relic of that organ twist and crack in my chest when she begged me to pardon the carelessness that had resulted in the tiny but precipitous paper cut on her finger.

I should have been the one asking, no imploring, her for forgiveness for the fact that my very existence endangered her precious life. I only had one thing left to ask of her though: that she would let me leave her.

* * *

><p><strong>|XX – Gone| |Bella|<br>**Artist: Joanna Hemara  
>Song: The Flame (Bob Mitchell, Nick Graham © 1988)<p>

_Another night slowly closes in,  
>And I feel so lonely.<br>Touching heat freezing on my skin,  
>I pretend you still hold me.<br>I'm going crazy, I'm losing sleep.  
>I'm in too far, I'm in way too deep over you.<br>I can't believe you're gone.  
>You were the first, you'll be the last.<em>

September ends but I do not.

To my surprise, I discover a few things in the months that follow.

October: I learn how to gasp around the holes in my chest and soul, the places _he_ used to occupy.

November: I learn how to walk and talk as if _I_ am still somewhere inside of this shell of myself.

December: I learn how to make the time pass with as little pain as possible.

In January I refine my act. I can breathe. I can exist. I stitch a rough patch around my gaping wounds so they are sufficiently hidden from the world. I know my seeping, injured and mutilated heart will never heal so I cloak myself in perfect numbness.

That I have not imploded, that the antimatter of _his _non-existence has not sucked me into invisibility and oblivion is only because _he_ asked me not to do anything reckless or stupid.

Instead, I am sensible and cautious and so it is as if _I_ have never existed beyond the automaton I have learned to be.

_A/N – This is a Cheap Trick song. Yeah, mad eh? It's redone here by Aussie singer Joanna Hemara. Interesting cross-genre cover. To be utterly honest, I was tempted to use John Cage's _4'33"_ for this but it's not technically country music so I couldn't. You _have_ to go watch the video if you want to get the joke… ; )_


	7. Section 7: Drabbles XXI to XXIII

There is no denying it, this was a really, really hard section to write. I'm still not happy about the quality but in the interests of expediency and my sanity, I'm posting it anyway. I struggled with the importance of everything that was crammed into the second quarter of _New Moon_: what I needed to focus on, what I wanted to gloss over, and how to approach it from a fresh angle. For the first time I also struggled with how to integrate the music with all of this.

In trying to sort out the struggle, I did some research (i.e. squinting at _New Moon_ late at night whilst scribbling in the margins) and discovered that Bella spends exactly a month as Jake's best friend before he fur!sploads. That is, the elapsed time between the Friday night when Bella goes to the movies with Jessica – essentially the end of the zombie epoch – and the Friday night after the movie with Mike and Bella when Jake first phases is four weeks. You too can do the math (if you feel particularly pedantic!) because Angela tells Bella the Monday after the weekend of the disastrous movie with Jess, the motorbike acquisition and the trip to Hoquiam with Jake that it's January 19th. After that, Bella as narrator makes enough reference to individual days that it is_ just_ possible to sort the jumble of SMeyer's writing into a reasonable timeline. What shits me, though, is that January 19th was not even a Monday in 2006. It was a Thursday! Geez woman, if you're going to bother with that kind of realistic detail, can't you get it right? Arg… So even though it aggrieved me, I played along with the fallacy that 19/01/06 was a Monday.

Anyway, the point of my ramble about the timeline is that, while I won't refute that it may be possible to become best friends inside of a month, (The parents of a childhood friend of mine met in an elevator at university, were engaged six days later and are still happily married after thirty-some years!) it disturbs me on many levels.

One: if Jake and Bells got so close so fast, then logically their connection should have enough meaning to her and been strong enough to make her choose him over someone who appeared to dump her. (And seeing as we are forced to deal with the farce of imprinting, rationally Jake shouldn't imprint on Bella if he's so profoundly attached to her?)

Two: if Bella doesn't genuinely feel a deep attachment to Jake, then she's just latching herself on to him in a really bad way. Which makes her a pretty pathetic user and Jake is an even bigger crutch for her than I originally thought.

Three: why the hell does Jake suddenly ditch his other friends and spend an entire month pretty much exclusively with Bella? I know he's had a little crush on her since they were bubbas; he's now a horny teenager; she's kinda pretty; and he's going through the Embry crap, but still… Bros before hoes, Jakey!

(Four: I've always disliked these books but now I'm really starting to hate the lack of thought/effort put into the logic and continuity in them! But let's not get into that!)

Soooooo these are the things I've tried to address in the following three drabbles. Nonetheless, in the end I came to a disturbing conclusion: I'm starting to have an aversion to Jake and Bella's friendship. I always thought the way Bella fell for Edward was unrealistic and based on nothing except his sparkliness and awesome hair/eye colour. I also always thought SMeyer did a better job with Bella and Jake – they were far more genuine. However upon closer examination I'm not so sure now; a month doesn't cut it for me. But maybe within the context of the book it is ok –especially given that Bella decides in about a week that she's "irrevocably" in love with Sir Sparkle! I dunno. I'm tired and confused so I'll shut up and let you read what you came here for.

None of this belongs to me, I'm just abusing it.

PS – you might want to read the first 'drabble' from the bottom up. That'll make sense when you get there : )

* * *

><p><strong>|XXI – Relationships| |Bella &amp; Renee|<br>**Artist: Van Zant  
>Song: Friend (Tom Hambridge, Jeffery Steele © 2007)<p>

_And when I stumble, when I slip  
>You never let me quit<br>Always knew just what to say  
>What I needed to hear, when I needed to hear it<br>Through all the good, through all the bad  
>I knew you always had my back<br>The best part of being who I am  
>Is that I get to call you friend<em>

_In the dark you were the light_  
><em>When the truth was hard to find<em>  
><em>When I needed someone to call me on it<em>  
><em>You'd call me on it every time<em>  
><em>Through all the good, through all the bad<em>  
><em>I knew you always had my back<em>  
><em>The best part of being who I am<em>  
><em>Is that I get to call you friend<em>

From: Bella Swan [mailto:is_a_bell_a_swan westnet . com]  
>Sent: Tuesday, 27 January 2006 22:20 PM<br>To: flightofancy explorenet . com  
>Subject: You're getting worse Mom!<p>

Hi Mom,

Sorry it's taken me a while to get back to you. I've actually been busy; it  
>wasn't that I took umbrage to your potentially offensive comments! In order<br>to avoid defending myself too readily and therefore raise more suspicions in  
>your mind, I will only say this once: I am not involved with Jacob like<br>_that_! Nor do I have any intention of ever becoming so.

What do we do? (As it is clearly not the things you're imagining!) Well, we  
>hang out in the garage or at the beach if the weather's ok and just talk;<br>sometimes we meet up with Jake's 2 best friends Embry and Quil; and every  
>once in a while we watch movies or whatever sport Billy and Charlie are<br>indulging in on the TV.

I often cook dinner for us all, we eat said dinner and we do homework.  
>Sometimes when we really feel like living on the wild side we enjoy some<br>fresh air outside. You know, like hiking and driving. Yeah, it's freaky  
>isn't it? Me, voluntarily going outside! So it isn't only about me watching<br>Jake work on his car. Although today we were in the garage and I guess  
>I'm obligated to tell you I tripped and hit my head on a hammer. Seven<br>stitches later I'm all better so please don't worry about it.

As for what Jake gets out of it – you have a point and perhaps I've been  
>selfish in not considering why he wants to be friends with me. I know why<br>I'm friends with him – all of the reasons I told you a while ago (basically  
>he's just a really <em>good<em> person) and I need someone happy in my life  
>right now. Do you think that means I'm taking advantage of him? I've<br>always felt a little bad that I take up Jake's time by tagging along with  
>him, especially because he's helping me in ways he doesn't even know. But<br>does that really matter? I'm not sure. How even should a friendship be? I  
>mean, maybe I'm taking more than giving. You've made me feel a little<br>guilty now!

Having said all that, I don't really want to question what Jake and I have  
>too much – it'd be like looking a gift horse in the mouth. The way in which<br>we connect is pretty special; particularly because he knows I've been a bit  
>emotionally distressed and yet is still happy to put up with me. He knows<br>I've got nothing more to offer than what's on the table right now, and that  
>is only a friendship. We are simply <em>us<em> and it's good. I can't find another  
>way to explain it.<p>

Charlie says Jake looks more like his mom than he does Billy. Happy now  
>I've answered that?<p>

As for sleeping – yes, I am getting more rest some of the time now.

How'd the bbq go?

I'm heading to bed early; my head's a little sore so I think an early night  
>would be good.<p>

Love Bella

PS – you're right about The Heart is a Lonely Hunter: it's about giving a  
>voice to the oppressed.<p>

xxx

-Original Message-  
>From: Renee Dwyer [flightofancy explorenet . com]<br>Sent: Sunday, 25 January 2006 11:18 AM  
>To: is_a_bell_a_swan westnet . com<br>Subject: RE: Calm down Mom!

Hi Bella,

Ok, ok, I'm sorry. I was just teasing you anyway. What is it the kids  
>say these days? Sensitive much?<p>

Touché about the toy boy thing but I won't tell Phil you said that :-)

Don't get me wrong, I'm really glad you've found someone to hang out with.  
>Just curious though – what <em>exactly<em> is it that you two get up to? Charlie  
>says that you spend ALL your time down at La Push now except for when<br>you're at school/work or when Jake's over at Charlie's place. I'm not  
>sure I get it. Surely there's only so much sitting in a garage<br>watching a boy play with car parts that you, of all (non-mechanical)  
>people, can tolerate?<p>

And what is Jake getting out of this whole thing anyway aside from you as  
>his garage audience? I'm not trying to be nosy but I do know what the<br>teenage guys are like that Phil coaches and they generally have motives  
>when it comes to girls. Like, get-in-the-girls'-pants type motives. Is<br>that the deal with Jake? If it is what you and he are doing, it's ok,  
>but just remember to use protection like I told you.<p>

The book is a bit of a heavy slog. What I'm getting from it is that it's  
>about people who didn't have the best deal in life. What do you think?<p>

Amanda says thanks for your well wishes.

We have a baseball barbeque this afternoon – wish me luck that I don't  
>give anyone food poisoning! Haha! :-S<p>

Lots of love from Mom

PS – you never told me what Jake looks like.  
>PPS – are you sleeping better?<p>

xxx

-Original Message-  
>From: Bella Swan [mailto:is_a_bell_a_swan westnet . com]<br>Sent: Friday, 23 January 2006 16:51 PM  
>To: flightofancy explorenet . com<br>Subject: calm down Mom!

Mom. You can be such a pain sometimes. Settle down. Jake is NOT my  
>toy boy. Repeat: NOT. That's more your style anyway. We're only<br>friends. He's a nice person and we like hanging out together. End  
>of story.<p>

Actually, that's not really the end of the story. Since you asked for  
>particulars I guess I'd better give them to you, especially because I<br>know you'll only invent some rubbish in your head if I don't tell you  
>in sufficient detail! It's not a question of Jake making me sit<br>anywhere for hours. Regardless of what we do, and it's often my choice  
>of activity, he just makes me feel happy. When I'm with him, life seems<br>easier; everything is pleasant and, well, sunny, almost. I realise that  
>may sound crazy because Forks isn't exactly a sunny place but Jake has<br>an incredible metaphorical sunniness.

He is truly an exceedingly cheerful, happy person and not in a false way  
>at all. Jake doesn't expect me to be anything I am not, he doesn't<br>remind of things, he doesn't ask me about anything. It's a  
>straightforward friendship, the best kind. He's always there for me,<br>always ready to do whatever I want and I like the easiness we have.

Charlie's off my back a bit now too thanks to Jake – for some reason  
>he thought I needed more of a social life so this seems to fit his<br>bill. I'm not really sure that doing homework with Jacob and hanging  
>out in an old garage is a social life, but whatever, it's enough for me<br>and apparently enough to convince Charlie I'm normal too!

How's the book going? I'm glad Amanda is better. Better go, I'm  
>heading down to La Push tonight.<p>

Love Bella

xxx

-Original Message-  
>From: Renee Dwyer [flightofancy explorenet . com]<br>Sent: Wednesday, 21 January 2006 17:08 PM  
>To: is_a_bell_a_swan westnet . com<br>Subject: RE: re: random thoughts

BELLA! Oh my god, that's so exciting about Jake! You have to tell me  
>more! Does he look like Billy? I always thought Billy was such a<br>handsome man. Not as hot as Phil in stripes but still pretty darn  
>good! There is definitely something about men who make a living with<br>their hands. (Notice that I refrained from saying "there's something  
>about men who are good with their hands!" Hahaha!) So yeah, young Jake<br>definitely gets bonus points from me too for being able to fix cars.  
>So what else do you guys do together? I mean, I hope he's not just<br>making you sit there for hours while he shows off his mechanical  
>skills.<p>

Honeymoon - we're going on Valentine's Day. Isn't that just the best?  
>:-D<p>

Amanda is definitely better now, no cast on her ankle, just a support  
>bandage.<p>

Ok, I'd better run. I told the Williams family I'd water their indoor  
>plants this week while they're on holiday so I've got to do that after<br>I get groceries. There was something else I was going to tell you but  
>I can't remember now. Anyway, WRITE BACK SOON WITH ALL THE JUICY<br>DETAILS OF YOUR TOY BOY!

Love Mom xo

xxx

-Original Message-  
>From: Bella Swan [mailto:is_a_bell_a_swan westnet . com]<br>Sent: Sunday, 18 January 2006 22:34 PM  
>To: flightofancy explorenet . com<br>Subject: RE: random thoughts

Hey Mom!

Great to hear from you. It definitely seems like you've been really  
>busy lately. Poor Mrs. Kirby, that sounds like a really nasty<br>accident. How irritating for her to get hurt doing something she  
>loves, like dancing. I hope she's better soon and doesn't have to<br>struggle around with a cast on too long or anything like that. We  
>all know how much fun that can be! Please pass along my best wishes.<br>I bet you want her better ASAP too so you don't have to work hard  
>with those older kids, right? Truthfully though Mom, it's good for<br>you to stretch yourself sometimes and do something challenging.  
>Even if you don't like it, at least it means you'll be thankful when<br>you return to the ankle-biters (oops, I mean kindergarteners)! It's  
>that whole 'the bad things in life make you enjoy good things more'<br>business. Or so they tell me.

Nice to know Phil's enjoying his new coaching job. But really Mom,  
>did I need your opinion of him in stripes? No! Ask yourself these<br>things before you tell me in future, ok? Anyway, say hi to Phil  
>for me. Your second honeymoon with him sounds like it'll be a lot of<br>fun for you two kids! Try not to eat too much cotton candy and then  
>go on the teacup ride - you know that always make you feel sick! Or<br>maybe I should call Phil and tell him to remind you closer to the  
>date? Speaking of which, when are you guys going on this love-fest?<p>

I can't say I remember you telling me about Kate Richards or her  
>Dalmatian but the book club will keep you busy. I've never read the<br>book you mentioned but I could try to get a copy and take a stab at  
>reading it. The library here is woefully stocked so I'll see how I<br>go on that mission! How badly do you need a summary of it?

School's going reasonably well. Calculus still sucks but it's always  
>going to suck, right?<p>

The most exciting thing here is that I just got back in touch with  
>Jacob Black. I guess you wouldn't remember him; he was born after we<br>left. He's Billy's son and all grown up now. As in freakishly grown  
>up: he's 6'5"! It's a little strange that someone I remember making<br>mud pies is now taller than me. Regardless, we've always gotten  
>along really well despite the age difference - and now the height<br>difference! I saw him a couple of times after I first moved here  
>(he's the one who fixed up my truck) but then we didn't run into<br>each other for a while. Anyway, I was at a loose end after I got off  
>work yesterday so I went down to the Rez for a drive and we ended<br>up spending the day in his garage. I know, that doesn't sound  
>exciting at all but Jake's pretty awesome at rebuilding things. I<br>can't imagine how anyone can make sense of a car's innards but he  
>can do it. Watching his hands alone was fascinating, especially for<br>someone like me who'd probably lose all their fingers using a  
>screwdriver! He's rebuilding an old VW Rabbit so I got told a lot<br>about German automobile engineering!

Today Jake and I drove to the auto parts store in Hoquiam and got  
>some supplies. Don't worry - I didn't touch anything metal or heavy<br>or potentially injurious to me! We spent more time fixing stuff  
>today. That is, Jake fixed, I watched. Then this evening Charlie<br>came over with Harry Clearwater after their fishing and we all had  
>dinner. That is, we had Billy's spaghetti! Do you remember Harry and<br>Sue's daughter Leah? She was there, but dealing with what I think  
>were boy problems on the phone. Her younger brother, Seth, was in<br>attendance too and busily hero-worshipping Jake. It was pretty cute!

Anyway, I guess I'd better head off to bed now. Monday and school  
>tomorrow, yay. (That was sarcasm in case you missed it!)<p>

Love you too, Mom.  
>Bella<p>

xxx

-Original Message-  
>From: Renee Dwyer [flightofancy explorenet . com]<br>Sent: Sunday, 18 January 2006 8:24 AM  
>To: is_a_bell_a_swan westnet . com<br>Subject: random thoughts

Hi Bella,

I hope everything is ok with you and it's not too wet and dreary  
>there. Although that might be wishing the impossible, it is Forks<br>after all!

Things have been pretty busy here, enough to keep us occupied  
>anyway. I've been teaching Amanda Kirby's second grade class this<br>week because she fell on the weekend at one of her ballroom  
>dancing competitions and tore a ligament in her ankle. Oww! Poor<br>lady, hey? Anyway, the kids were good and we covered lots of  
>things - mostly about dinosaurs because that's the unit they're<br>doing at the moment. We did dino math (don't ask!), geography of  
>places where lots of dinosaur bones have been found, time travel<br>machines, and prehistoric stories in creative writing. There was  
>one little girl there who reminded me so much of you: she wrote<br>the most beautiful tale of a lost baby brachiosaurus who fell out  
>of its egg! Adorable :-) But honestly, I don't even know how<br>these kids can spell things like brachiosaurus - I was so worried  
>they'd start telling me I was making mistakes! It'll be a big<br>relief to go back to kindergarten next week and have fun with my  
>little tots again. Is it sad that I'm looking forward to finger-<br>painting and the sand box? Heehee!

What else? Well Phil's been coaching the local high school ball  
>team, they're the Jacksonville Jaguars. He's having a really good<br>time and says the shortstop and the left fielder could both play  
>varsity ball. And boy, you should see him in his coach's uniform -<br>yum! That man looks so good in stripes :-)

Speaking of my hubby, we're planning on visiting Disney World  
>again soon. But guess what? It's not just any visit, we're going<br>to take a second honeymoon! Isn't that so exciting? We're doing  
>the whole fancy suite, black tie dinner, day passes and tour of<br>the castle package. I can't wait! Oh, and the very bestest  
>part? We get matching his and hers mouse ears! Maybe I convince<br>Phil to wear mouse ears and his coaches uniform together -  
>ultimate eye candy!<p>

There's not a lot else to tell you but I guess you'll be pleased  
>to know I'm reading a lot more. You know Kate Richards - that lady<br>down the street with the Dalmatian I told you about? Well, we got  
>talking one afternoon and she suggested I join the book club in<br>town. In the end I did because I had some spare time after  
>deciding I'd had enough of examining my inner chakras or whatever<br>those meditation people were always on about. Anyway, this is I  
>pretty fun. We've just started reading The Heart is a Lonely<br>Hunter. I guess you've probably heard of it and we heard of it  
>because it was on Oprah's book club last year. Maybe you can help<br>me find something smart to say about it for when we meet next  
>month? ;-)<p>

So, that's me all rambled out. Let me know how school is going and  
>if you're doing anything interesting with your friends these days!<br>Hi to Charlie.

Miss you so much sweetie!  
>Lots of love from Mom xoxoxox<p>

_A/N – I'm not sure this song really suits what I've written. I originally intended it for a piece between Jake and Bella but then I wanted some more perspective so I chucked Renee into the mix instead. To be honest, I was too lazy to think of a new song so this one stayed. In my mind, the 'friend' reference is to Jake and Bella, not Bella and Renee.  
><em>_The email idea was lifted directly from pg 133 of NM – I am not creative enough to come up with that on my own! Originally it had all the little that emails get in front of them when you reply and don't delete the message below. But apparently FF doesn't like that and deleted them! Meh. Interestingly enough, my mum and I actually do email each other every day. Because we both live alone on opposite sides of the world it's as much a safety check as a sanity check. In addition to the minutiae of running a business together, our emails are often full of the same kind of banal ramblings that Bella and Renee exchanged here. From my end, there's also some of what Bella's doing – telling enough of the story to get the picture across but not giving everything away! I do often talk to mum about relationships though and, unlike Renee, she tends to give pretty reasonable advice!_

* * *

><p><strong>|XXII – Still Gone| |Bella|<br>**Artist: Patsy Cline  
>Song: I Fall to Pieces (Hank Cochran, Harlan Howard © 1960)<p>

_You want me to act like we've never kissed  
>You want to forget; pretend we've never met<br>And I've tried and I've tried, but I haven't yet...  
>You walk by, and I fall to pieces<em>

_I fall to pieces  
>Each time someone speaks your name (speaks your name)<br>I fall to pieces  
>Time only adds to the flame<em>

I closed my eyes, did my little jump-kick and the bike roared to life. I heard Jake's chuckle behind me – he still found it entertaining that I couldn't pull off a graceful kickstart.

"You good to go, Bells?" he asked and, as usual, the concern for me was heavy in his voice.

"Perfect," I yelled back over my shoulder, my happy grin matching his. I felt good. I always felt good around Jake.

I toed the bike into first. Clutch then throttle, and smoother than spaghetti sliding off a fork, as Jake would say, the gearbox engaged and I was off. I'd only be doing this for a couple of weeks but I didn't wobble anymore and the freedom was great. I heard the other bike behind me and knew I was safe. The wet, pine- and sea-scented air filling my lungs made me think again of Jacob; I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for his kindness.

Then, as if beyond the command of my brain, my left foot hunted for second and third gears as my right wrist sought speed. I no longer felt easy happiness, instead I was filled with an intense longing.

I was flying. I became aware that my body knew what it was doing and why it was craving speed: this was the closet thing I would ever find to running with _him_. And if I was lucky, _he_ would join me.

"_Bella!" _There! There it was! This was just like running! _"Bella, what are you doing? Stop."_ The sound was so delicious to my starving heart.

"I'm finding all that's left of you, that's what I'm doing." The wind ripped the words from my mouth and they drowned in the snarl of the bike's engine. There was enough of my conscious mind remaining to realise I was glad no one could see or hear me: this was a private and sacred conversation.

"_There is nothing left of me that is good for you Bella. You need to stop this madness, take care of yourself and love yourself more."_ Abruptly I was angry. What right had _he_ to talk about loving me? I leaned forward over the handlebars and shifted into fourth gear.

"Just what are you going to do about it if I don't?" I demanded through gritted teeth, pushing the throttle harder.

"_Nothing, there's nothing I can do but beg and plead with you to stop. Please Bella, Please?"_ I laughed at that and leaned into the left-hand bend. The damp road beneath my red bike was nothing now but a portal to both my past and the future I'd wanted so badly. Maybe that was the explanation – maybe this was time travel and maybe the voice was from some other parallel universe. I didn't care; I just wanted more of its melodic beauty in my ears.

"_Bella, love, at least slow down. For me?"_ I straightened out of the corner and appreciated that I was laughing hysterically. _"Bella, breathe. You need more air and less speed. Sit up, then slow down and pull over." _The speedometer read nearly forty miles per hour and I inched down on throttle a little more. "So beautiful," I whispered into the current of air blasting past me.

"_Get off this death machine. This isn't even remotely funny Isabella Swan!"_ The anger in _his_ voice was flashing and spectacular. Passion filled my body the same way the roar of the bike filled my ears. I was truly alone out here on this road but also truly connected to the person I loved most. I had no answer for _him_, only a smile.

"_This is ridiculous. You're going to kill yourself, Bella. Think of Charlie!"_

"No," I shook my head and felt my hair whip around me, "no, I can't think of Charlie. I can only think of you! You made sure of that when you left. You made sure I'd never be able to think of anyone else! Why did you do that to me?"

My face felt odd, cold and a little stiff. Tears. I recognized them mechanically but focused instead on the slight curve in the road. _"Bella, it was best. Don't make my actions in vain by hurting yourself now. Please, please stop!" _

Dipping to the right I pushed the bike even harder. Ahead, a long straight stretch of road came into view full of nothing but the promise of more auditory perfection.

"_FINE!"_ the voice shouted furiously. _"I had hoped not to do this, but Bella, please stop for _his_ sake."_

"Who? Who's sake?" I was puzzled. There was only one _him_ in my life and _he_ was talking to me now so who could _he_ be referring to with such vehemence?

Then three things happened at once. The voice, _his_ voice said _"Bella, please, if not for yourself or me, please slow down for _Jacob's_ sake."_ In my peripheral vision I caught a glimpse of an iridescent sparkle. I slammed on the brakes.

Too late, I realised three more things. The glittering was only a rare beam of sunlight on the ocean. I no longer had control of my bike. I wasn't alone out here because another motorcycle flew past.

None of that mattered…_"BELLA!"_…because I still had the voice…_"Bella, no!"_…I was fishtailing…_"Bella, love-"_…I was airborne…_"Tuck and roll, Bella!"_…I was hitting something headfirst…_"NO!"_…I was blackness.

"Bella!" Something was wrong. The voice was all wrong.

Warm hands pulled a weight off my legs. "Bella, can you hear me? Can you move?"

I groaned. A loud sound filled the background instead of _his_ exquisite, tender voice.

"Oh thank god Bella, you're alive! You scared the shit out of me! What the hell happened?"

I groaned again and opened my eyes to two blurry faces leaning down over me. It was disturbing so I shut my eyes again and inhaled deeply trying to process what was happening. I'd known for some time I was crazy: sane people didn't hear voices. But I'd always thought I was acceptably crazy because I'd never actually hallucinated. Until now. I opened my eyes again. There were still two faces.

"Bells?" The faces were speaking. Asking me the same thing. Four hands came down around my face and swept across my eyes. Odd. If one eye was covered there was only one face. Maybe the faces were leaving me one by one just like _his_ voice had left me. I winced at the thought.

"What's wrong, where are you hurt?" Two faces again. Copper faces. Four hands. Copper hands. One face. Two faces. One face. "Bells, honey, say something?"

There was something familiar about the faces, the hands and the wrongness of this other voice.

Jacob. Of course. _He _had said something about Jacob. The motorcycle swerving past me had been Jacob.

I struggled to sit up and lean against the tree behind me. Everything spun. Warm hands everywhere. Something was still roaring. "Bella, what's happening? You're not bleeding anywhere, I don't understand."

Realising I had to say something I whispered, more to myself than anyone else, "See, I did stop." The pain in my head was horrible and made me nauseous so I leaned over and threw up in the bushes.

Breathing deeply, I felt a little better. I straightened up and looked at the person in front of me. I wasn't hallucinating, he did look like Jacob, just blurry. I closed one eye. He came into focus and then started laughing.

"What?" I squeaked out weakly.

"Look at your eyes, Bells! One pupil's the size of a dinner plate and the other's a pinprick. Classic concussion! Thank god that's all it is. Wait, you can feel your toes, can't you? Wiggle them for me?"

Obediently I moved my feet around. I didn't know what that had to do with anything. "What's that noise?" I had to ask, it was starting to get on my nerves.

"What noise? The bike? That's my motorbike Bella. Remember? You were on one too, on yours, until you hit the brakes for some unknown reason and ended up headfirst in this poor tree. I did a uey and came back to scrape up the pieces."

"Oh. Ok." Things were slowly coming back to me. Motorbikes. Adrenaline. Delusion. E- _him_. The voice. The longest conversation I'd had with _him_ since – since _he_ left. The pain in my head was suddenly matched by the pain in my chest. I curled in on myself holding the two halves of my broken body together around the gaping wound.

"Bella! Bells, what's wrong?" Alarm in the voice. The voice that wasn't _his_ voice. The voice that was Jacob's voice.

Something in my aching head told me I owned Jacob an explanation. "I'm ok, Jake."

"Hardly, but you'll live. I'm going to get the truck and take you to the hospital. Think you can stay here for a coupla minutes without hurting yourself?"

"Sure, sure." I closed my eyes again, too tired to argue that I didn't need to go the hospital. The hospital definitely couldn't fix what was wrong with me. The growling motorcycle noise lessened and trailed off into the distance.

I could smell my own vomit so I shuffled around to the other side of the tree. Its bark pushed into my back where I leaned against the trunk and the damp ground was seeping through my pants but I didn't care. I thought I heard some twigs snapping and concluded dimly that my most recent disaster had probably scared every animal in the forest.

Carefully opening one eye I surveyed the scene in front of me. My bike lay a few feet away, covered with a spray of gravel. Just beyond was the road and on it, tire tracks tangled everywhere with themselves.

I closed my eyes again and tried figure out how I'd ended up against this tree concussed and wrecked. I sorted things into little blocks in my head. _He'd_ left me. I'd become an empty robot. I'd discovered _his_ voice in my head when I broke that ridiculous promise about my safety. I'd brought the bikes to Jake who'd fixed them. I'd become less of a robot but I was still broken. Now I was using Jake and _his_ voice to glue my pieces back together. Except it currently felt like the pieces were unsticking and so jumbled that they'd never fit again.

Another loud noise interrupted everything and opening both eyes I saw two trucks. Right, concussion. One truck.

Jake was suddenly everywhere. He was putting the bikes in the truck and then helping me up. He laughed, "It's déjà vue, Bells but at least you don't need stitches this time. Still, I think you need to find a less dangerous hobby. Maybe table tennis?"

"I'd likely take a ball to the eye and go blind," I joked weakly as I tried to climb into the truck. Jake shoved me in unceremoniously and got in the drivers side. I flopped against the inside of the door; the effort to sit up seemed overwhelming. A hand pulled me over and suddenly I was next to Jake, flopping against his warmth instead of the cool steel of the truck. It felt all wrong and I cringed away.

The same hand took my face and turned it. I opened my eyes again and saw the concern in Jacob's as he stared at me.

"Bells, what's going on? You were crying before you crashed, you've got dried tear tracks down your cheeks. Did the bike scare you? Did the throttle stick open so you couldn't slow down? Why did you brake like that anyway?

My head swam. Again, I felt I owed Jacob an explanation.

We trusted each other, I couldn't destroy that now – I needed him too much. Surely I could find some words for Jake, the person who'd helped me the most and who I felt the best around. Except for now, I wasn't feeling the best now that I'd just taken a giant six-month step back into the past.

"No, the bike was fine. I was having a, um, an exhilarating time, and the tears were just adrenaline, like excitement I guess." I was a bad liar and my pathetic mumble sounded implausible, even to me. Luckily Jake seemed to accept the stumbling justification.

"But why'd you stop?" he asked again.

Damn. I wasn't getting out of that one so easily. "Ah, I uh, I guess I had a fright," I stuttered.

That was sort of true. I remembered the sparkle on the water and how I'd thought – . I guess it didn't matter what I'd thought. _He_ was never coming back. _It will be as if I'd never existed._ I cringed, turning my head away from Jake's intense gaze.

He let go of me to steer and the truck rumbled as we pulled away. "Ok, no more bikes for a while, Bells. Let's get you to the hospital and get this head of yours examined for damage."

If only Jacob Black knew how damaged I was. Sighing, I leaned into him a little. Maybe the warmth wasn't so bad after all. Maybe I could at least take warmth from Jake without it screwing anything else up.

I settled against his side and felt more than just a twinge of guilt realising I'd forgotten Jake's existence during my brief conversation with _him_. Jacob had done nothing but treat me well since I'd shown up on his doorstep with two dead, broken motorbikes and my dead, broken heart. Really, if I was being totally and completely honest, Jake'd been more than good to me.

The guilty voice in my head tried to tell me that Jake deserved better. Better than my damaged, wretched self. I squashed the guilty voice down and told it that I needed more than trying to pretend _he'd_ never existed. I needed Jake.

_A/N – Patsy Cline tragically died in a plane crash at the age of 30 in 1963 at the height of her career as both a country and pop singer. This song is an absolute country classic. _

_As for Bella using Jake, I have to admit that for once I empathise with her. I've been there. I mean, without the voices in my head of course! But I have used a friend to remind me of someone else I couldn't let go of. It's a twisted, sick, selfish and nasty thing to do. Especially when you watch your friend's face crumble as they realise you're not there because of them. Luckily, my friend had the balls to tell me I needed to get my sh*t together. Honesty can be such a beautiful salvation. And in the spirit of honesty, I'll admit I lifted the idea for this from page 169/170 of NM.  
>"Tuck and roll" is a line once yelled at me when I fell off a veranda in a state of inebriation. Not my best moment but my friends love the story!<em>

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><p><strong>|XXIII – Girls, Hugh Jackman and Fight, Fight, Fight| |Jake, Quil &amp; Embry|<br>**Artist: Hank Williams  
>Song: Cold Cold Heart (Williams © 1951)<p>

_I tried so hard my dear to show that you're my every dream  
>Yet you're afraid each thing I do is just some evil scheme<br>A memory from your lonesome past keeps us so far apart  
>Why can't I free your doubtful mind and melt your cold cold heart<em>

_Another love before my time made your heart sad and blue_  
><em>And so my heart is paying now for things I didn't do<em>  
><em>In anger unkind words are said that make the teardrops start<em>  
><em>Why can't I free your doubtful mind, and melt your cold cold heart<em>

"You're going to turn into a greasy puddle and ooze through the floor like that dude in X-Men if you spend any more time hiding out here, Jake."

Embry's voice broke my concentration. Looking out from under the Rabbit, I could see four feet. My two best (non-Bella) friends had shown up.

"Huh?" I grunted, rolling out from under the car, wishing Embry'd make more sense. Standing and stretching I glanced at him. He at least had the decency to look sheepish as he said "My mom likes Hugh Jackman, ok? I've watched the damned movie with her way too many times."

He shuffled over as I walked past him. It'd actually be too easy to make fun of him for that so I let it slide. I wasn't really in the mood for dishing out shit because I knew if I did, I'd only have to take it back from them. Quil saw the opening and pounced on Embry though, "You just wish you had steel claws so you could open cans without a can opener."

"Or cook kebabs on the bbq real easy," I seriously couldn't help myself from adding that.

"Or –" Quil started but Embry, now leaning in the doorway, stopped him. "I was being serious, you know."

"What, about your secret fetish for a certain Australian actor with mega sideburns?" I asked, grabbing three cans from the carton under the work bench.

"No, you ass, about your sorry moping over a certain white chick with mega pale skin." Embry answered as he caught his root beer easily.

"Don't fucking call her that!" I snapped, angry because he was right. It was typical Embry to figure out what was bugging me and bring it up.

"Fight, fight, fight!" Quil gargled out around the half can of lemonade he'd managed to suck back in record time.

Ignoring him, I sunk into the old bench seat from a truck that acted as a sofa and kicked a muffler across the floor in my frustration. There wasn't much I could do about the whole Bella thing except wait and see. I was getting sick of waiting and seeing. Quil and Embry were clearly sick of me waiting and seeing.

Embry shot a dirty look to where Quil was now sitting on three tires. "Come on Ateara, you were the one saying only yesterday how boring Jake's been since he started trying to fix Bella." Apparently Embry expected more agreement than he was getting from Quil.

Quil simply tossed his now-empty can in the air. "Not so much boring, just really absorbed in her."

Suddenly I didn't have the energy to be mad at them. Maybe it was just the mention of Bella or maybe I really had spent too long moping. "Come on guys. I am here and I can hear you talking about me. Besides, Bella is a mess. She's practically family and that filthy Cullen treated her like shit. She needs a hand right now."

We'd been through this before. They thought she was hot but fucked up, they didn't get why I was 'wasting my time on her' – their words, not mine. To be honest, after that last bike accident, I sometimes wondered why I was bothering too. I'd been making progress, she'd been getting better, I was sure of it. Then she'd gone all weird and withdrawn on me again.

"And just where you've been putting that hand, Jake, old son, might change things!" Quil leered at me.

I discovered I did have the energy to snap again. No one talked about Bella like that! Jumping off the truck seat I shoved Quil off the tires. "For fuck's sake, you're a fu–"

"Fight, fight, fight!" Embry chortled from where he was so elegantly holding up the wall.

Fuck them both. I took a half-hearted swipe at Embry too and then gave up. "This is why I hang out with a broken-hearted girl most of the time now," I told them, returning to sprawl across the seat.

Embry innocently asked "Why?"

They really were dumb. "Because it means I don't have to put up with your shit."

Embry snorted and root beer bubbled out his nose as he said smugly, "You love us."

"Not as much as he loves Bella though. Did you ask her to be your Valentine?" A voice came from the corner of the garage where Quil had now taken it upon himself to reorganise my piles of tires.

"Hey!" I protested, "I had those all stacked up according to size already. Why the hell don't the two of your just piss off now? Ya know: vamoose, go, LEAVE? "

Quil spun a tire on the floor, "See that Embry? He didn't even try and deny it."

"Yeah, that's exactly what I was worried about."

I chucked an old fan belt at Embry's head. "MAN, back to this again? We are just friends, nothing more. She can't cope with anything else and I'm not going to ask it of her."

"Yet."

I contemplated strangling Quil for his comment but the fan belt, which would have done the trick, was now in Embry's hands, not mine, so I had to play nice. "I dunno. Maybe never. I can tell she's not into me that way." Public admission of that sad fact was the only hope I had of getting them off my back.

"But you want her to be into you?" Embry asked in an overly polite voice.

"Nah. Not really. I just want her to be happy right now."

Quil was still bumping around in the corner. He'd moved on from fucking up my tires to digging through a box of old rad hoses. Case in point that simple things amused simple minds.

"Not really or not ever? There is a difference."

"Christ, what's with the third degree Em? I can't say I'm never gonna want her to be into me."

"You're a shit liar, you know that Black?" Quil was peering at me through two short lengths of hose like binoculars.

"What?" I hadn't expected anything insightful from him, that was Embry's job. Quil put the hoses down but they'd left two black rings around his eyes. I sighed. On a better day I'd have laughed at him.

"You already desperately want Bella to want you," panda-face told me.

"Only you don't realise it yet," Embry finished for him.

"Or maybe you just won't admit it," said panda-face again.

"Yeah, because that'd mean you'd be, like, preying on the victim or something. And you've got some shit around your eyes, Quil," Embry pointed out the obvious.

"What the fuck, you two?" I felt like a spectator at tennis match except my head was swivelling back and forth watching a pair of idiots dissect my life. I'd had enough of providing them with entertainment. "Are you head shrinks now as well as annoying pains in the ass?" I got up again and threw my can in the garbage hoping they'd take the hint and finally leave me in peace.

"Nah, we're just your friends," Embry helpfully informed me as he pushed off the doorframe and wandered over to the Rabbit.

Quil was still scrubbing at his face with his sleeve, "Yeah, friends trying to save you from an eternity of mopey-assed chick-dom."

"'Mopey-assed chick-dom'? You guys are being the biggest pair of chicks ever with all this heart to heart shit! And besides, Bella's my friend and right now she needs saving from her own mopey ass." I lowered myself down onto the creeper and rolled under the Rabbit, hoping to hell that what I'd said was true – that I could save Bella from this ex-boyfriend misery she was boiling herself alive in.

"Whatever dude," Embry leaned over the grill and stared down at me through the gap in the engine bay where the rad would eventually go. "When you get sick of those weird ye olde Shakespeare movies full of guys in frilly costumes, we'll be here for you."

"Says the guy who likes Hugh Jackman!" Quil finally had the sense to steer the conversation back to our normal level of inanity.

"Hey! I told you it's my mom who likes him!"

Another pair of feet appeared in front of the Rabbit. Quil's voice filtered down now too, "Uh huh, that's a likely story, Call."

There was a scuffle, a thump and an "Ow!" I watched their feet hop around and yelled "Fight, fight, fight!" up at them from under my car.

The shuffling stopped. "You know Black, that's the manliest thing I've heard you say so far today," Quil informed me.

"Whatever. Pass me that five-sixteenths and if you don't like what I say, you can hurry your ass on out of MY garage."

The wrench came down along with "Nah, we might stay and hang around – just to piss you off!"

"Yeah," Embry butted in, "What else are friends for?"

Turning a bolt, I had to agree with Embry. "That's what I've been saying all along."

"Huh? What have you been saying, Jake?"

"He is dumb, isn't he Em?"

"Hey, at least I don't like Hugh!"

Embry ignored Quil. "I don't get it either. What did you mean?" Yup, they both really were dumb.

"I MEANT what else are friends for but to hang around with? That's all I'm doing with Bella." And traipsing around with her in the woods too because of her latest obsession of looking for some meadow, but I sure as shit wasn't gonna tell the guys that one.

"Who's the head shrink now?" Quil asked.

"Jake's not wrong, you know." Thank you, Embry.

"Huh?"

I chucked to myself under the car. That syllable was definitely a staple of Quil's vocab. It was no wonder he was goofy enough to pick fights at school with seniors over their girlfriends.

"But I think hanging out with Bella all the time must be rubbing off on you, Jake."

"What, you mean he's getting all soft and gooey?"

"Yeah, exactly Quil. Like I said, he's going to seep through the floor soon."

And there we were back at the start again: just three guys working on a car and piling shit on each other. Life somehow suddenly seemed ok thanks to my two immature, idiotic friends.

_A/N – Like Embry's mum, I have a weakness for Hugh, especially as Wolverine! Once again, I'm not convinced the song works with the drabble but I liked what I'd written, laziness prevented me from rewriting it, and I couldn't find another song to fit.  
><em>_By the way, I've started screwing with canon already… I was going to try and hold out a bit longer but it didn't work. Technically, by this point Embry's already wolfed out and isn't hanging out with Jake and Quil anymore. Meh, whatevs…_


	8. Section 8: Drabbles XXIV to XXVII

This section is dedicated to the lovely Willow2883 and Micah's Moonbeam in return for their highly entertaining comments in the last section of TWCC over at livejournal. See anything in here that we've talked about recently, ladies? Hope you enjoy :)

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I mean La Push, the world goes on, much to Bella's self-absorbed surprise.

And I own nada bar a broken heart. Which is to say, these songs and characters belongeth not to moi but rather to their creators.

* * *

><p><strong>|XXIV – Fur| |Jake|<br>**Artist: Waylon Jennings  
>Song: Will the Wolf Survive? (David Hidalgo, Louie Pérez © 1984)<p>

_He's got two strong legs to guide him  
>Two strong arms keep him alive<br>Will the wolf survive?_

_Standing in the pouring rain_  
><em>All alone in a world that's changed<em>  
><em>Running scared now forced to hide<em>  
><em>In a land where he once stood with pride<em>  
><em>But he'll find his way by the morning light<em>

He is not sure if he is two beings in one body or two bodies in one being. For a moment he is _Homo sapien_, for a moment he is _Canis lupus_. In the instant between, he is some kind of homeless elemental energy on its way from one form to another.

It is this transitory moment of nothingness that terrifies him. It terrifies him beyond the concept of turning from man to wolf and beyond the possibility of getting stuck on four legs unable to resume his original shape.

The terror strikes in that moment when his human form ceases to exist except in his mind. Then his bones shoot outwards; his skin stretches to accommodate muscle and millions of hair follicles; his jaw fills with lethal teeth as sharp as his new claws and eyesight. Thus, he is complete. Not complete in a satisfied way, only in a structural sense because his body has fulfilled its genetic destiny and the latest in a long line of killing machines is ready.

He knows he will learn to control the fear; the others have told him so. But he wonders if there will always be a tiny, fleeting snap of panic as his body changes.

All of this happens regardless of whether or not he has any say in the matter – the fear and the fury and the fur just happen.

Soon though, sooner than anyone expected, he can pop between forms easily. There is still a slight panic every time – an uncomfortableness like swallowing an ice cube or slapping a mosquito – but it is bearable.

He gains back a friend but he loses his future and the ability to be his own person. Now, instead of his having hopes and dreams, he is harnessed to his people as their protector. He doesn't mind that, per se, it is more that he hates how he has become only a means to an end – a vampire's end. The sense of duty is fine but the obligation with no choice, no trade offs and no felicitation is nearly degrading.

He learns truths that should not be possible, realities that shock and one painful fact: he can not be friends with _her_ anymore. He has no say in this matter either; he is simply told he is too dangerous. That rankles. Not only is it another choice lost but the man telling him shouldn't be issuing these commands. His blood riles at being under another's authority yet his brain relishes this one tiny release from responsibility – for now. This is just another strange dichotomy in the duality he has become: anger and gratefulness, rage and fear, power and resentment, wolf and man.

_A/N – Ahh, the legendary Waylon covering the Mexican-American rock/roots band Los Lobos. So cool! Did you know Waylon was the narrator for The Dukes of Hazzard? Mmm hmmm, even cooler, right? Check out the original video too, it's quite enjoyable._

* * *

><p><strong>|XXV – Party!| |The Pack|<br>**Artist: Hank Williams, Jr.  
>Song: All My Rowdy Friends are Coming Over Tonight (Williams, Jr. © 1984)<p>

_I got ketchup on my blue jeans, I just burnt my hand  
>Lord, it's hard to be a bachelor man<br>I got girls that can cook, I got girls that can clean  
>I got girls that can do anything in between<br>I got to get ready, make everything right  
>Cause all my rowdy friends are comin over tonight<em>

"Hey guys, look at this!" Embry bellows across the darkening yard to the group of overgrown boys carrying Sam and Emily's lawn chairs and picnic tables into a circle. "These marshmallows burn easier than vamp meat. Tissue. Flesh. Stone. Whatever the hell it is."

Paul cackles but Emily grimaces. Sam looks at her in concern; he loves his brothers and appreciates their enthusiasm – it's not a job many would relish – but Emily is his priority. "Embry!" Sam shouts, "Get your ass over here and do something useful."

Embry leaves his marshmallow pyrotechnics, saunters over and good-naturedly takes a salad bowl from Emily and carries it to the table.

"Can you keep the nasty vamp comments to a minimum around Emily? Please?" Sam asks quietly, with unusual vulnerability, as he puts down a pile of plates and forks.

"Oh shit man, I'm so sorry. Shoulda thought. Yeah, I'll shut my face." Embry looks suitably contrite but then pokes the salad with the serving tongs. "Hey Sam?" he asks, "I know Emily loves cooking for us and all, but do you think you could tell her we really don't _need_ to eat vegetables?"

Sam smacks Embry in the head. "You _will_ eat whatever she cooks, Call!" his reply commands the younger wolf.

Paul cackles again as he juggles glasses while Jared and Jake exchange a high-five at Embry's expense. Jake finishes setting up the chairs and adds his two cents, "just like your momma told you Embers, eat your veggies!"

Kim comes out of the house with a tray of roast eggplant. "Some for you Embry? Wouldn't want the others to take it all first," she offers innocently before she places the dish on the table.

Jared glares at Embry who takes the hint and three pieces. "Lovely, my favourite, thanks Kimmy."

Sam and Paul are beside themselves with laughter as everyone else lines up and fights over the food.

In the ensuing chaos of the meal, Embry sits down on the other side of Emily to Sam. As he tries to find a way to eat the unusual vegetable on his plate, he whispers an apology to his alpha's mate. "Sorry about before Emily, didn't meant to scare you."

"It's ok," she smiles her twisted smile back at him and touches the scars on her face, "I don't scare easy, remember? Sam's just a little over-protective."

Embry is suddenly thankful for her presence in their lives and makes a mental note to tell Sam he's convinced Emily should do more than just cook for the pack. She's a smart girl, college would suit her.

There's a little nudge in Embry's side and he looks back at her. "The best way to eat the eggplant is to bury it in your hotdog. You know, between the bun and the wiener. Then the mustard sort of hides the taste," Emily says in an undertone to him with a quick wink.

"What?" he chokes back at her.

"I can't stand it either but I haven't got the heart to tell Kim. If you so much breathe a word of this to Jared though, you're dead!" Emily threatens and then casually turns to Jake on Sam's other side to ask if he needs more steak.

While Jake and Embry continue to stuff their faces and argue over the last bottle of cola, Paul and Jared, now finished their first course, wander over to the bonfire and resume Embry's incineration of marshmallows.

"He was right, you know! These are totally flammable, definitely on a par with leech juice!" Paul guffaws to Jared.

"Inflammable," a soft voice behind them corrects. Jared turns and reaches for Kim who has come over to eat by the fire for some warmth.

Like Sam earlier, Jared worries about his mate getting upset over what he does. Briefly he wishes he could have taken up baseball as a hobby instead of this mandatory vamp-killing pastime. "Sorry babe, you probably didn't want to hear that," Jared says, drawing her into his side.

Caught up in his gaze, Kim smiles at her wolf and feels like the only girl in the whole world. "No, not really but it is a part of who you are and what you do, so…" she lets the thought trail off.

"Thanks," Jared ruffles her hair, kisses her and turns back to the fire, continuing to burn the sugary treats. Belching after chugging half the cola that Emily made him share with Embry, Jake barrels over to the fire and steals a marshmallow off one of Jared's carefully arranged roasting sticks.

"Eww, this tastes terrible, man! Can't you teach him to cook, Kim? Or at least not burn shit?" Jake demands. As he spits bits of sticky, blackened candy everywhere he wonders why Embry and Emily are exchanging looks and laughing particularly hard.

"They don't taste half as bad as that damned bloodsucker did this morning," Paul comments darkly.

Suddenly, the cheerful backyard gathering is solemn. "I know what you mean dude," Embry claps Paul on the back. "I've brushed my teeth four times this afternoon and I can still taste something like kerosene."

"It's more like diesel to me," Jake adds bitterly. "The Coke gets ride of it a bit but not totally."

Reaching for another marshmallow Paul responds, "Yeah, the fucking taste is definitely the worst part, hey?"

Jake frowns, "No, the worst part was hearing that, that _thing_ call Bella 'mouth-watering'. The sick fuck!" He pokes the fire angrily and sparks fly up into the late evening sky, hanging in the air like momentary, extra stars.

Jared, conscious of Kim at his side, does not join in the others' grumbling as he looks across the fire to Sam, who has materialised noiselessly. Embry stiffens, suddenly nervous of being told off again for talking shop in front of Emily and Kim.

Sam just reaches into the side pocket of his cargo shorts and pulls out a hip flask. "Here," he says, handing it to a scowling Jake. "Welcome to the world's most dubious club, kid. You did good today, made us proud. You're a good wolf."

"Whoa, dude, not only are you our fearless leader, you've got booze too?" Embry crows.

Jake holds the flask and looks from it to Sam and back again. During the past week that Jake has been with the wolfpack, Sam's been nothing but the responsible and staid alpha. Sure, they killed a leach before it drained Bella this morning, and sure, this evening's gathering is a celebration but Jake still can't imagine how Sam has forgotten he is only sixteen.

From her perch on the edge of the picnic table Emily raises her eyebrows at Sam, who winks back at her. Paul laughs knowingly at Embry's eagerness and Jake's confusion. In the end, Jared takes pity and stops roasting marshmallows long enough to explain things to the two newest wolves.

"Whisky," he says simply. "It's the only damned thing that'll get the taste out of your mouth. But with our metabolism, we can't even get a goddamn buzz off it." Then he eats another marshmallow methodically.

"It's like our ancestors got us between a rock and a hard place," Paul continues. "Most delinquents drink mouthwash in desperation. We gotta use neat whiskey as mouthwash but it does nothing to us. Pretty shitty deal, hey boys?"

Jake grabs the flask and takes a swig before passing it to Embry.

"Hold it in your mouth for a minute, that'll really kill the taste," Sam advises as he takes the flask back and pockets it. "And if I ever catch you trying to get drunk on this stuff, I will personally kick your sorry asses to Canada."

Emily walks over to the fire as Jake and Embry both gargle and swallow. Her arms are full of bags of candy. "He doesn't mind if you try to get a sugar buzz though," she tells them smiling.

xxx

Three hours later, four male bodies are scattered on the lawn around the fire pit in various positions. Sam, Emily and Kim sit in lawn chairs and watch the mess at their feet with smug expressions.

"I think my teeth are going to fall out," Embry groans.

Sam pokes him with a roasting stick. "Wouldn't matter, you'd just grow new ones."

Rocking in a fetal position, Jake asks, "Is this like a hangover? A sugar hangover? Cuz I think my brain's going to fall out."

"Can't," Jared says, "You gotta have a brain for that to happen, you idiot!" He tries to laugh but, discovering his belly is too full, he burps instead. "Eww, I think a marshmallow just repeated on me."

"Jar-red!" Kim scolds.

Paul, always competitive, has to do one better and disturbs the quiet with a massive fart.

"Jesus H Christ, Paul, you're a –" Embry's words are cut off as he wrestles Paul into a headlock.

"Can't you just alpha command Paul not to do that anymore?" Emily asks Sam with a sly grin on her face as she watches the boys twist on the ground in front of her.

"As much fun as it'd be to watch him swell up, think of the mess it'd make when he exploded!" Sam replies, reaching out and squeezing her knee, infinitely grateful she puts up with his brothers so gracefully. "Besides, it'd just be easier if you stopped buying him marshmallows – you know they don't agree with his digestion!"

Jake barks out a short laugh. Seeing Paul, Jared and Embry thrashing around, he's suddenly reminded of play fighting with Quil and Embry in the garage. Which makes him think of Bella. And how much he misses her.

Standing, he stretches and says "Sam, Emily, thanks for dinner. I'm off. My turn to patrol."

Without waiting for a reply he's gone into the forest on edge of the lawn.

"Poor kid," Emily whispers after him.

"He's ok," Sam assures her. "He's doing a good job, aside from being cranky as hell about everything. But which one of us wasn't when we first ended up in this mess?"

Paul and Embry are still whaling on each other; Jared has given up and is now tickling Kim. None notice Jake slipping away.

"Yeah, true," Emily sighs, continuing her quiet conversation amidst the laughter from the bodies rolling on the ground. "But 'this mess' means you have me, Jared's got Kim, and Paul and Embry have brothers and a sense of belonging now. For Jake, it just means he loses one more person he cares about."

Sam is silent for a moment. Then, in a tired voice older than his twenty years, he answers his fiancée with as much conviction and wisdom as he can muster, "I know Emmy, I know. Don't think I haven't thought of that. But it'll work out one way or another for him. He deserves it."

_A/N – Best. Party. Song. Ever. I was greatly saddened that I couldn't find an online version of the original video. There are plenty of live videos of Hank doing this song but it's nearly always impossible to hear the lyrics because the crowd is going nuts so I chose this one. It's pretty cool too: Steven Tyler & Buddy Guy playing the song at a tribute concert to Hank. The camera cuts to Hank a few times in the audience where he's rocking out to his own song. How much fun would that be? I have no idea why it looks like Steven's got a raccoon tail in his hair, but then one never knows with Steven!_

* * *

><p><strong>|XXVI – All in a Day's Work| |Charlie|<br>**Artist: Creedence Clearwater Revival  
>Song: Bad Moon Rising (John Fogerty © 1969)<p>

_I see the bad moon arising  
>I see trouble on the way<br>I see earthquakes and lightning  
>I see bad times today<em>

_Don't go around tonight_  
><em>Well, it's bound to take your life<em>  
><em>There's a bad moon on the rise<em>

Writing missing person notices is one of the worst parts of my job. It's worse than finding bodies because then at least the family has something. Closure, the police shrinks call it. Don't like that word. It got chucked around a lot after Renee left. Enough said.

_**Missing**__: John Brewster  
><em>_**Age**__: 51  
><em>_**Height**__: 5'11"  
><em>_**Description**__: Caucasian male, medium build, brown hair, blue eyes  
><em>_**Last Seen**__: near Sol Duc Hot Springs, Olympic National Park  
><em>_**Wearing**__: black pants, denim shirt, green down vest, red Mariners ball cap  
><em>_If you have any information about the whereabouts of this man, please contact Forks Police Department Tipsline: 360-374-5311_

Done. Not hard to write but hard to think about. Whatever Bella might say about my unhealthy eating habits, I think I deserve another coffee and doughnut before tackling the press release. Besides, what she doesn't know about won't hurt her.

_Citizens of Forks, Port Angeles, La Push and surrounding areas are warned to avoid camping, hiking or fishing in Olympic National Park until further notice. _

_Four recent disappearances in the region are thought to be related and possibly due to bear attacks. _

_Should it be necessary to enter the park or any wooded area, only do so during daylight and travel in pairs or groups. Always tell a family member or friend the intended destination and arrival time. _

_Carry noisemakers and pepper spray to deter bears. Should an aggressive bear be encountered that cannot be deterred with spray, passive resistance may be an effective safety technique. This involves crouching on the ground, with head down and arms around knees in order to protect vulnerable torso and head areas._

_Please report any unusual wildlife activity to the Olympic Park Ranger on: 360-565-3130 and the Forks Police Department on: 360-374-5311_

_For further information on camping and wildlife safety on the Olympic Peninsula, please visit: www . nps . gov/olym/planyourvisit/things2know . htm _

There. Also done. Still don't feel much better about it though. There's something odd about all these missing hikers and suddenly ravenous bears. Or wolves. Or whatever's out there. It's not like there've been many animal attacks in the area in living memory (aside from that Young girl getting mauled by a bear last year) so four in two weeks is highly suspicious. Just hope to hell we aren't dealing with some sick, twisted serial killer. I'd rather a pack of rabid wolves than a messed up rapist or junky or psychopath.

I should tell Bella again to be safe outdoors; she didn't seem to take my last warning too seriously. Who knew Forks would be more dangerous than Phoenix for the poor kid!

Damn that coffee tastes foul! Bella's is better. I guess she's not really a kid anymore, not far off 18. Shit. I gotta wonder where the time goes. At least she and Jake seem to have sorted themselves out. No idea what went on there with that bunch of boys and her theories about gangs but my gut tells me it's ok. Probably some tribal stuff we don't need to know about. Funny how Jake looks like he's the one who's 18, not Bella. Also gotta wonder if she's ever gonna see in him what he sees in her. I guess that's something else I probably don't need to know about.

_A/N – Please don't call these numbers, they are actually the real ones. Sorry but I like my details correct! Love this song and excellent old video of it. Fogerty's kinda cute here! Every band and their dog has covered this song so I hope you recognise it.  
><em>_I had to succumb to the cop/doughnut stereotype. Mostly because I went to high school with a guy whose dad was a cop and he got food poisoning from a doughnut. It was a Boston Crème and the centre had gone off. Heehee!  
><em>_And the bear stuff? A ranger come into our elementary school and taught all the kids how to be safe from bears. He fully advocated the 'playing turtle' theory. I dunno if I'm game to test it out! Because there are no large carnivores here, all my Aussie friends think it's pretty freaky we had bear safety lessons in Canada as small children!_

* * *

><p><strong>|XXVII – $%*| |Leah|<br>**Artist: Miranda Lambert  
>Song: Gunpowder and Lead (Lambert &amp; Heather Little © 2007)<p>

_I'm going to show him what a little girls made of  
>Gunpowder and lead<em>

_It's half past ten, another six pack in_  
><em>And I can feel the rumble like a cold black wind<em>  
><em>He pulls in the drive, the gravel flies<em>  
><em>He don't know what's waiting here this time<em>

_I'm goin' home, gonna load my shotgun_  
><em>Wait by the door and light a cigarette<em>  
><em>If he wants a fight well now he's got one<em>  
><em>And he ain't seen me crazy yet<em>

|*| |fucking men| |or rather there are no fucking men these are definitely boys not men| |in fact im not sure i would recognise a man if i ever see one again because im so used to these juvenile horny twerps| |they are like a plague of grasshoppers and they grow just as fast except you cant do anything useful with them like baiting a fishing hook| |which reminds me we need fish| |oh god i miss dads fish fry| |i wonder if he will ever be able to make it again| |dad why the fucking hell did i have to make you so sick| |i am sorry old man| |but why the fucking hell didn't you tell me about that asshole sam| |that was harsh| |stupid cocksucker and his namby pamby doe eyed woman slash hearts desire slash my cousin| |fuck me| |if luck could come in bigger doses i would be drowning in it| |i have a paralysed father an ex boyfriend in my head all the time an ex best friend with said ex boyfriend a little brother who is a werewolf and a bunch of stinking sparkling vamps hanging around| |not to mention that i make dolly the cloned sheep look genetically normal| |yeah i am gonna go buy a lottery ticket now and see if i can crash the whole stock market|

|*| |hi leah|

|fuck off jake|

|i just wanted-|

|dont care i said fuck off| |i want to be alone| |meaning i definitely dont want to know about your non-girlfriend|

|we could talk| |maybe itd make you feel better|

|…| |ha fucking ha| |jake you dont need to be nice to me just because no one else is| |besides i dont think theres anything we can talk about that will make me feel better||*|

|and dad thinks im moping over bella| |sheesh|

_A/N – I wanted to find a way to write the wolves in each other's heads that was different, something of a stream of consciousness. I came to the conclusion that there'd be no punctuation, just words and spaces where they took a mental breath. Hopefully this works, is readable and not too Gertrude Stein-ish! I guess I'm kind of committed to it now so I'd better make it work! As for the |*|, well what the hell other kind of a sound are they going to make when they phase in and out of telepathy? I dunno. As a dear friend of my used to say about horses that were hard to catch "make a noise like a carrot!" His meaning was basically 'you're on your own to figure that one out!' and I feel the same here. You work it out!_


	9. Section 9: Drabbles XXVIII to XXXI

Can you hear that noise? That metal-twisting and screeching sound? You know what it is? Oh baby, that's the canon-train derailing! Mmm hmmm, ain't it the best sound ever? Gimme a just little bit more of it because I nearly lost inspiration for this story…

I think we are wandering our way out of _New Moon_ and into the disturbing territory that is _Eclipse_. Urg. But really, right now I think I need Jake to use his compass and draw me a grid pattern so I can figure out exactly where the hell I am. Jake? Hello? Jaaake? Compass? Yeah, over here mate. *waves* Thanks.

What we have here is quite a bit of overlap in terms of time. Basically the last drabble in the last section and the first two here all cover the same events. Yeah, it does slow things down a lot. For some reason I could cover _Twilight_ in four drabbles but this _NM/Eclipse_ transition has me bogged. But then again, no one ever said SMeyer was consistent, right? There's the excuse I've been looking for all along ;)

Like the borrowed compass, these songs or these books and are only on loan. (The only thing I own here is my insanity.)

* * *

><p><strong>|XXVIII – Long Way Down| |Bella and Jake|<br>**Artist: Love and Theft  
>Song: Drowning (Jeff Coplan, Brian Bandas, Eric Gunderson, Stephen Barker Liles © 2009)<p>

_Searching for something, can't seem to find  
>The blood on your fingers, still on my mind<br>And I just wish I could forgive you  
>Walking for days now, there's nowhere to go<br>Chasing horizons, being alone  
>I don't know where I should run to<br>_

_Let the sun rise on me and never fade away  
>So save me I'm drowning alive<br>And keep me from dying inside  
>I only want to find my way back home<br>But I can't make it alone_

Charlie thinks the animals out there are killing people.

|disgusting parasitic dead creep killing people|

Instead, it's the wolves out there killing vamps.

|seriously wish we could catch her already and end this|

Meaning Jake can't dive with me today.

|breaking another promise to bella this morning|

But desire for Edward's voice overcomes fear for Jake's safety.

|shes a mess but she will be worth it in the end|

Everything crystallises in my mind at the ocean's edge.

|it all hinges on today| |kill the vamp| |get the girl| |maybe|

Victoria's hunting me.

|stupid red-headed bitch is after my girl|

My heart is hunting _him._

|seems that everyone but cullen wants bella|

Jake is hunting my heart and Victoria.

|god damn leeching whore just got away again|

Victoria could get me.

|better head back home| |it's not safe for bella out here|

Jake could take me.

|itd always be safe for bella with me| |never mind what sam thinks|

But I'll never have what I want: _him_.

|just wish there was a way to make her forget cullen|

So I find myself on the cliff searching for _him_, for Edward. I can say it now.

|searching for her now| |where the hell is she|

Then I'm jumping, flying, screaming.

|holy shit that was bella screaming|

_Bella._

There! There it is! Edward's voice. Perfection.

|there| |*| There she is! Fuck, why'd she jump?

Swirling, thrashing and mostly cold. Cold everywhere.

Jesus this is cold! She is never going to survive…

_Don't you dare give up!_

Cold, just like Edward. How did I survive without him?

SHIT SHIT SHIT. Can't even see her…

_No! Bella, no!_

I can even see Edward now. Beautiful. Cold.

I gotta keep it together, gotta save her. Do NOT let her drown.

All in all, drowning is ok because Edward is here with me.

There she is! Mother fucker, she is drowning!

I never meant for this to happen but when you can see your beloved…

Why would anyone smile when they're sinking?

Edward. Happiness. Goodbye, I love you.

Holy hell she weighs nothing.

Nothingness.

This can't be where the expression 'dead weight' came from. She can't be dead.

Death.

I'm swimming like hell, pushing her to the surface because her life depends on it.

…

Everything breaks and then there's air.

…

She is not breathing.

…

I can't think, I can't understand. All I can do is swim and save her.

…

I'm beating the water out of her as I beat the current to the shore.

…

She breathes. I breathe.

Hot. Must be in hell.

I can't help myself, I'm kissing her forehead over and over.

Oh, that's oxygen. And Jake. Both good. I guess.

_A/N – See what I did there?_

_Bella's over here. (Along with Ed-imaginary-ward.) _

_And Jake's over here._

_Ain't formatting a wonderful thing? : ) Nearly as wonderful as angst. Harhar. God, it's killing me to write this stuff. Evidently I'm a one-trick pony because I only enjoy writing happy fanfic. Ne'rtheless we shall continue…  
><em>_If you feel the need to saturate your ears with more love and theft, I'd vote for Bob Dylan's 2001 album _"Love and Theft"_ (title is complete with quotes) rather than this country-pop duo of the same name. Just sayin'._

* * *

><p><strong>|XXIX – Apology| |Edward|<br>**Artist: Willie Nelson  
>Song: Always on My Mind (Johnny Christopher, Mark James, Wayne Carson Thompson © 1972)<p>

_Maybe I didn't treat you  
>Quite as good as I should have<br>Maybe I didn't love you  
>Quite as often as I could have<br>Little things I should have said and done  
>I just never took the time<em>

_You were always on my mind_  
><em>You were always on my mind<em>

_Tell me, tell me that your sweet love hasn't died_  
><em>Give me, give me one more chance<em>  
><em>To keep you satisfied, satisfied<em>

Imagine you met the girl of your dreams but you are the worst thing in the word for her. Now picture your favourite ice cream, cookie or treat and then imagine you are holding the spoon putting this delectable indulgence into someone's mouth. Watch them chew and savour, swallow and smile. You want to taste it yourself, don't you? This is what I felt for six months in the presence of the girl of my dreams.

Imagine the person you love most in terrible danger. A hostage taking, a natural disaster, a burglary gone wrong, a drunk driver, a terrorist, a poisonous snake, a fire. Pick one. Pick your biggest fear. There are so many ways someone you love can die. Now imagine that you could be the cause of your loved-one's danger. You are the killer, the accident waiting to happen, the lethal device. This too is what I felt for six months around the girl of my dreams.

You find yourself with a person you love beyond reason itself, yet you know you are the most dangerous thing in existence for them. What else can you do but leave to save the person you love? This is what I told myself for six months after I'd left the girl of my dreams for her own sake.

And then the unthinkable occurs. Imagine you are told your love has killed herself. You die inside, even though that is not possible. This is precisely what happened to me and I did just what you would do: I sprang into action trying to right the wrongs.

xxx

First: a phone call with my sister who knows these things.

I am terrified: "Alice. Bella – what's happened to Bella?"  
><em>She's fine. Well, alive anyway. Apparently she jumped off a cliff for recreational purposes only.<em>

I am relieved: "Good God. Rosalie said she was dead."  
><em>I am sorry you were so badly misinformed Edward. I should have told you directly what I saw. But you said not to meddle and I didn't want you to know I'd seen anything. I only came to Forks to check and…<em>

I am upset: "It's fine, Alice. I'm so glad Bella's fine. Trust Rose to get it wrong. Perhaps, in some macabre way, it has something to do with her obsession with Bella's mortality. But maybe in future you should think of others before you make decisions to run off to -"  
><em>Edward, I understand you're in some state of shock and you're babbling a little, but believe me when I say this, it's you who should think of others before you make decisions that involve running away.<em>

I am confused: "Wha – what on earth do you mean?"  
><em>I said Bella's alive. She's not exactly fine though. She's a mess because you left her. Apparently you're not the only one irrevocably changed by love.<em>

I am devastated: "Oh Alice. Oh no. Oh dear God. But she will be fine, won't she?"  
><em>I don't know.<em>

I am desperate: "Can't you see? Can't you tell?"  
><em>Yes, but it's blurry. Her future flickers in and out and sometimes it disappears altogether.<em>

I am overwhelmed: "What should I do?"  
><em>It's up to you Edward but I think Bella needs to know you still love her.<em>

Imagine your relief that your love is alive. Now surrender yourself to a mixture of bewilderment, trepidation and culpability. This is what I feel over what I have done to the girl of my dreams.

xxx

Second: a night-time flight to Seattle.

Imagine that your thoughts have never been so scattered and useless; they are a thousand feathers floating in your mind. Imagine you need to make an apology so grave and sincere you are not sure a lifetime of words could express its meaning. This is what I must find a way to explain to the girl of my dreams.

I write a letter to gather my wits.

_Dearest Bella,_

_If it was possible I would spend an eternity, all of time, trying to express how sorry I am for lying to you and leaving you. I only did it to ensure your safety and that has always been my utmost priority._

_I am so very sorry that you believed me when I said I didn't want you. It was in no way the truth but I felt it was the only way to convince you that you would be better, safer, without me. I see now it was irrational of me. Should you let me back into your life in any capacity, I resolve to let you make your own decisions now rather than try to control circumstances for you._

_I wish there was some way to begin again, forget this mess and just be who we were – two individuals utterly in love. Of course, if you have moved on then I understand, for clearly, I am not really worthy of your affections after treating you so poorly. But if there is any chance, any shred of hope, that I many once more hold any place in your life, please, please, tell me. I may have shunned you but in doing so I have also exiled myself from the very heart of my being – from you._

_Every single last bit of my love is yours, should you want it._  
><em>Edward<em>

xxx

Third: I tell her the truth.

Imagine if you saw the love of your life again after an extended absence. Imagine the peace, tranquillity and rightness of it soaking into the depth of your person. This is what I feel sitting in the girl of my dreams' rocking chair watching her sleep.

As happy as I am to just be in her presence again, I can help but notice there's a strange smell in Bella's room. Several strange smells. Gasoline and motor oil are the easiest to recognise and justify: perhaps she's been putting fuel in that wretched truck which is still parked in the laneway. Next, there's a strange smoky layer to the air. It's the lingering whiff of bonfire. Has she been burning things?

Most worrisome though is the reek of something animalistic pervading through, or above, all of these other odd, non-Bella smells. The musk is familiar but I can't place it. Suddenly, in an instant, I remember smelling the same foulness seventy years ago and I reach to wake Bella, full of fear for her life. Just as I do, she smiles in her sleep and says "Jacob?"

Then I am shaking her desperately but gently because everything fits together in my mind: Jacob Black at prom, Billy Black hovering on the Swan's veranda last year, Carlisle signing the treaty with Ephraim Black last century. There _is_ a worse danger than me in her life: werewolves. I am needed here again to protect her.

At first Bella will not believe I am real. She thinks I am some nightmare. I say what I wrote down but she cannot or will not accept what I am telling her as true. I give her the letter and say she can keep it until it makes sense to her. In the meantime, I am so worried about the wolves that I can not stop myself asking her about them.

xxx

Forth: the girl of my dreams takes me back.

Imagine the impossible relief you would feel if your whole reason for being wanted you again. Imagine the release, the lessening of a burdensome weight, the sheer joy of forgiveness you would experience as this person embraced you again. This is how I feel as Bella laughs and throws her arms around me.

"I guess you are real," she says. "Only you would worry so much about my safety as to fret over the boys from La Push. They're harmless."

I decide to deal with this issue later because right now I am imagining perfection and it is this moment with Bella. I am deeply glad I called Alice to check the facts. Imagine the chaos if I had not.

_A/N – I've always imagined that Edward's thought processes would be rather over-dramatised and full of rhetoric. A bit like impassioned political speeches…  
><em>_Willie Nelson, on the other hand, is plainly the complete opposite cuz he's the height of cool! This is a lovely song that's been covered by everyone from Elvis to the Pet Shop Boys and even got a look-in in the musical Priscilla Queen of the Desert. Willie won the 1983 Grammy for Best Male Country vocal for his version._

* * *

><p><strong>|XXX – Addiction| |Bella|<br>**Artist: Emmylou Harris  
>Song: I Don't Wanna Talk About it Now (Harris © 2000)<p>

_God knows how I love you  
>Like a user needs a drug<br>And I'll never be free of ya  
>You are poison in my blood<br>I tried to swim that river  
>And get to higher ground<br>I been three times under  
>The next one'll see me drown<em>

_But I don't want to talk about it now_  
><em>I don't want to talk about it now<em>  
><em>I don't want to talk about it now<em>  
><em>I wanna go down<em>

_God knows why you don't want me_  
><em>No one would do the things I do<em>  
><em>But to my grave it's gonna haunt me<em>  
><em>How I got down on my knees for you<em>  
><em>You are my obsession<em>  
><em>And the reason that I live<em>  
><em>You already got my soul<em>  
><em>There's nothin' left to give<em>

INT. FORKS HIGH SCHOOL SENIOR CALCULUS CLASS – DAY

A typical high school classroom. Blackboards and posters adorn the walls. Window looks out over a grassy sports field ringed by trees. Students sit in rows, rain jackets hang on backs of chairs.

We see most students have textbooks on their desks and jot down what MR. VARNER writes on the board. A few students appear disinterested, pass notes and giggle amongst themselves when Mr. Varner's back is turned.

BELLA sits in the middle of the class next to JESSICA and in front of LAUREN. Bella hunches over her desk, scribbles quickly in a notebook, her dark hair curtains what she writes. We see that she does not look up at the chalkboard but instead gnaws on the end of her pencil, forehead furrowed.

MR. VARNER  
>Class? Who has solutions to the review problems?<p>

Students raise their hands and offer responses when called upon.

CUT TO: THREE GIRLS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROOM

Lauren watches back of Bella's head, frowning. She tears a piece of paper in half, prints _OMG Jess – what the heck is Miss Crazy Cullen-lover doing now?_ on the page, folds it and passes to Jessica.

Jessica reads note, smirks, leans over to peer around Bella's shoulder. We see a page full of messy hand writing that reads:

_June 1 2005_

_Confused, confused, confused…  
><em>_Since Edward's been back: (10 weeks!)  
>- <em>_I've gained twelve pounds (probably needed to)  
>- <em>_Charlie won't talk to Edward (grunting doesn't count)  
>- <em>_Jake won't talk to me but Charlie wants me to talk to Jake ( ? )  
>- <em>_Edward doesn't want me to talk to Jake ( ? ? )  
><em>_I don't care about the first two things. The other two…I dunno what to do about._

_Then there was Monday morning, in front of school:  
>- <em>_Edward/Jake arguing about incident in La Push re: redheaded while we visited Renee in FL (Scared for Charlie/the La Push boys/the Cullens. So scared.)  
>- <em>_Jake telling me he missed me every day. I wanted to hug him SO BAD ( ? ? ? )  
>- <em>_Edward not telling me about redhead's latest foiled plot but whisking me away to FL instead (ugh & still SCARY!)_

BACK TO SCENE

MR. VARNER  
>(looks around class)<br>Bella can you tell us the name and use of this equation?

BELLA  
>(eventually glances up, confused, blushes)<br>I'm sorry, could you repeat the question?

MR. VARNER  
>(slightly dejected, points at <em>m = <em>_f(b) – f(a)_ on blackboard)  
><em>b – a<br>_Bella, would you care to share with the class the purpose of this equation?

We see Jessica slide a note under Bella's arm.

BELLA  
>(glances down, ostensibly checks textbook but reads note)<br>That's, the uh, mean value theorem. It states that for two points on a  
>continuous curve, there is a um, point in between where the slope is, is<br>the same as the slope of the line joining the, ah two points.

MR. VARNER  
>(resigned tone, looks directly at Jessica)<br>Thank you, Bella.

We see Mr. Varner turn back to board. Bella gives Jessica a grateful smile.

JESSICA  
>(whispers with a wink to Bella)<br>You're welcome. In return you can tell Mike how much I like him again.

We see Bella blush, tear her scribbled-on page out of notebook, put it in pocket and begin paying attention to Mr. Varner.

END OF SCENE

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

INT. BELLA SWAN'S BEDROOM – DUSK

Soft music PLAYS.

Bella sits at her desk with a notebook and two pages in front of her: one the scribble from calculus class, the other a much-creased letter in fancy script.

We see Bella write a few lines then stand up and stare out the window.

BELLA (Voice Over)  
>I've always been able to organise my thoughts better on paper. Until<br>now. The more I think about things, the more impossible it seems to  
>keep JACOB, CHARLIE and EDWARD all happy.<p>

CUT TO: MONTAGE

Enraptured Bella kissing Edward at a school prom.  
>Dazed Bella alone and lost in the woods.<br>Vacant Bella staring TV in Swan house with worried Charlie in background.  
>Young Jacob laughing, hugging and twirling a sickly Bella.<br>Healthier Bella on a motorbike with Jacob.  
>Intense, older Jacob nearly kissing bedraggleddamp Bella in truck outside her house.  
>Shockedjoyful Bella embracing relieved Edward in her bedroom at night.  
>Irate Jacob phasing to wolf and running length of First Beach.<br>Anxious Charlie asking Bella to find balance among her friends.  
>Protective Edward lecturing Bella about dangers of young werewolves.<br>Aggrieved Jacob looking at Bella/Edward after revealing her motorbike to Charlie.

BACK TO SCENE

We see Bella move from window back to desk. Writes in notebook: _I __miss__ Jake. But I __love__ Edward._ She sighs, picks up and reads the creased letter again.

EDWARD (Off Screen)  
>Should you let me back into your life in any capacity, I resolve to let<br>you make your own decisions now rather than try to control circumstances for you.

BELLA (Voice Over)  
>(puzzles over creased letter)<br>I hadn't previously thought about this detail but it seems my current  
>situation is partly a product of Edward doing what he said he wasn't<br>going to do. We should talk about this.

Bella puts letter down and resumes writing in notebook, starts paragraph with _Of course I am going to miss Jake but he's not helping either by being stubborn now._

BELLA (Voice Over)  
>(as she writes)<br>I never realised, until he was out of my life, how much he meant to me.  
>I'd always known that while I did genuinely like him, I'd used Jake to<br>distract myself from the hole Edward's absence had left. Somewhere  
>along the way though, Jake become more than just a crutch to me.<br>Now I'm finally grasping that, it's too late to make up for it, too late to  
>pay Jake back for the fact that I've done more taking than giving in our friendship.<p>

We see Bella glance at photographs pinned to her corkboard: her in a group of grinning dark-skinned boys. She then picks up a framed photo of her/Edward, runs fingers over the picture, a smile plays on her writes _Maybe it's just my_ _fear for Jake, the pack, Charlie, the Cullens and whoever else that might get in Victoria's way that's making me so irrational._

BELLA (Voice Over)  
>(as she writes)<br>Because who wouldn't be terrified of a vampire hunting them, or their  
>friends hunting said deranged vampire? What upsets me too is Edward<br>not talking about Victoria's latest attack while we were in FL until I  
>forced the information out of him. Logically, I know he's protecting<br>me, as he does, and I accept this aspect of his nature. Really, it's hard  
>to be mad at him. Who could ever stay mad at someone they knew<br>they couldn't live without? Not I!

Bella smiles dreamily.

FLASHBACK: 18 MONTHS AGO, RENEE'S HOUSE IN PHOENIX

BELLA  
>(nonchalant)<br>Charlie said Rebecca Black got married this summer.

RENEE  
>(shocked)<br>That's terrible news, honey. Rebecca can't be much older than you.

BELLA  
>(frowning)<br>I think it's romantic. Rebecca found someone she loved and couldn't  
>bear to be separated from him.<p>

RETURN TO SCENE

Bella writes _Back then the thought of endless love was a nice notion._

BELLA (Voice Over)  
>(as she writes)<br>Now I understand the full reality of love. So despite the anxiety I feel  
>about hurting Jake and the pull I experienced towards him the other<br>morning, I simply know these emotions pale in comparison to what it'd  
>be like to lose Edward again.<p>

We see Bella stretch and glance at her clock which reads 6.45pm. Continues writing.

BELLA (Voice Over)  
>(as she writes)<br>So even though it seems like I am trying to solve a jigsaw without the  
>picture on the box lid, I know who is in the centre of that picture:<br>Edward. I will have to fill in the rest of the scenery on my own as best  
>I can. Maybe asking Edward to let me make a few more decisions on<br>my own will help.

Bella gets up, closes notebook, tidies room and heads downstairs

INT. SWAN KITCHEN – DUSK

We see Bella prepare dinner and look at wall clock.

BELLA (Voice Over)  
>(as she cooks)<br>Suddenly I don't want to think about conflict anymore. I want it to be  
>7pm. I want Edward to be here, to kiss me, to hold me, to breathe my<br>name. I want to hug him so he can never leave again. I want… well,  
>maybe I shouldn't think about that particular thing right now!<p>

KNOCK from front door.

We see Bella welcome Edward into house and they kiss passionately.

SCENE FADES OUT

_A/N – Ahhh, the divine Emmylou. Man, how I love her voice and her music and this is an incredibly sexy, if sad, song. She's best known as a singer of other songwriters' compositions and she's recorded with, amongst others, __Dolly Parton, Linda Ronstadt, Gram Parsons, Rodney Crowell, Bob Dylan, Neil Young, Willie Nelson and most recently, Mark Knopfler. Try beating that list! Interestingly, the album from which this song comes, Red Dirt Girl, is mostly made up of songs Harris wrote herself, a departure from her previous recordings. Red Dirt Girl won the 2001 Grammy for Best Contemporary Folk Album. It's good stuff.  
><em>_I first wrote this as a narrative and hated it so I forged ahead and wrote four more sections. Coming back to it, I realised I needed a challenge and screenwriting sounded kind of fun. Turns out it's a really damned good exercise for someone with verbal diarrhoea like me! Not to mention the formatting is fun. This is a bastardised version of a spec script crossed with a shooting script because I'm too lazy to do either properly! Some advice I found on teh interwebs about scripts: "The writing should be lean and visual, focusing on action that moves the story forward. Though concise, it should have enough flair to engage readers. Write only what can be seen and heard." Did I succeed? You tell me!  
><em>_BTW: I got 54 in Calculus I during my first year at uni over ten years ago and switched programs just so I wouldn't have to do part II. So shoot me if I got the reference to mean value theorem wrong, ok?_

* * *

><p><strong>|XXXI – Frustration| | Jake &amp; Sam|<br>**Artist: Darryl Worley  
>Song: When You Need My Love (Wynn Varble, Worley © 2000)<p>

_Oh I wish I could just say no  
>And get you out of my heart<br>It must be nice to have some place to go  
>When your world falls apart<em>

_He'll call tomorrow with the same ol' line_  
><em>And you'll forget about us<em>  
><em>I'll be lonely until the next time<em>  
><em>When you need my love<em>

He is left standing there as she drives away in the pouring rain. He tries to comfort himself by thinking that at least she'd visited. For the first time in two and half months she'd shown up on the rez. They'd walked on the beach, they'd sat, they'd talked, they'd been themselves. It had been good except for the nagging elephant in the room: she was going home to a vampire.

He laughs bitterly at this as he turns and walks into the forest behind his house. Really, it's not an elephant in the room at all: it's a fucking vampire in Forks. Same thing though: it's obvious, it's out of place and it's wrong but no one can talk about it. Most of all, he doesn't get why she wants to be with _it_. Sure, he'd asked and she'd said it wasn't the looks or the money. She'd fed him some line about _it_ being the most loving, unselfish, brilliant and decent person she'd ever met.

His anger matches his sadness now. Couldn't she see the irony in what she'd said? (Aside from the fact that _it _is not a person.) Surely anyone so loving, unselfish, brilliant or decent would let their girlfriend see her best friend? Bella is not stupid, indeed he thinks she's a hell of a lot smarter than him, so if he can see this, why can't she? Has the vampire somehow imprinted on her?

It's this thought that stays with him as he rips his clothes off and does the one thing he knows will bring him some relief from the pain of an injustice beyond his control.

|.*|

|hey jake|

|sam| |whats been happening|

|not much|

|radio silence eh|

|pretty much kid|

|…| |…| |…|

|now whos got a case of radio silence|

|…| |sorry sam| |im not good company at the moment| |but feel free to crack a joke that im never good company anymore|

|its ok| |ive dealt with worse|

|yeah i guess so| |…|

|wait what| |you told bella about me and emily| |imprinting|

|sorry| |didnt mean to think of that| |but yeah| |i did tell her|

|and|

|she didnt freak out|

|damned girl never does when she should so thats no gauge of anything|

|haha| |true|

|see you can still laugh| |life goes on| |did she say anything about it though|

|nah| |not much| |but…|

|but what|

|i think she was glad i havnt imprinted on her|

|huh| |if she knew what was good for her she would beg for it over that useless bloodsucker|

|thanks sam| |i guess|

|sorry| |not much of a compliment but you know what i mean kid|

|sure sure| |sam|

|yeah jake|

|about imprinting| |well why havent i| |on her i mean| |and look| |i know you will probably say its because shes not the one for me| |but| |well…|

|…|

|you dont have to answer that if you dont want to| |i know imprintings not exactly your favourite subject|

|nah| |its ok jake| |i was just checking to see if leah was around|

|fair enough boss|

|can you not call me that|

|you think i like it when you call me kid|

|but you are|

|ha well you are the boss|

|for now| |and thats kinda one of my theories| |because you are supposed to be alpha you might not be burdened with imprinting|

|burdened|

|blinkered| |blindsided if you prefer| |maybe you are meant to have supreme clarity of judgement rather than be tied to a mate|

|and the other reason|

|they are just theories jake| |not reasons| |its not like trying on pants until you find the pair that fit the best| |you cant bank on this stuff so you cant pick and chose what you want to believe|

|ive got nothing else|

|no| |…| |i guess not| |the other idea is if you are meant to be what your imprint needs then if she doesnt need you| |well you dont imprint on her|

|thats…| |theres a word for it| |bella taught me this| |shit whats it called| |specious logic|

|haha indeed| |but we are a little logic-defying arent we jake|

|unfortunately i cant disagree with you there| |seriously though i can see that kim wanted jared but how do you explain emily|

|she needed someone to look after| |and i needed someone to look after me i guess| |and as much as i uh| |loved leah| |lets face it| |that was never gona happen with her|

|um yeah| |well i guess not|

|sorry| |i try to keep that outa the pack|

|its ok| |but do you really hate it that much|

|what|

|imprinting|

|oh| |not anymore| |i hate that your little brown eyed girl took the vamp back no questions asked more|

|me too sam| |me too| |but couldnt you have fought it| |the imprint i mean|

|maybe| |i tried for a while| |in the end the misery wasnt worth it|

|...| |on that cheery note i should probably head home| |check on dad| |find some dinner|

|ok jake| |sorry i couldnt be more helpful|

|nah its alright|

|see you for your shift at midnight|

|sure thing| |and uh| |thanks for everything eh sam|

|its my job jake|

|yeah but i still appreciate it| |*|

|*| |hi boss|

|seth what are you doing out here| |dont you have homework|

|all done boss| |mom said i could go outside and |play| now haha|

|fair enough|

|is jake around|

|nah| |you just missed him|

|oh| |darn|

|you want me to pass along a message| |hes on later tonight|

|nope it was nothing really| |just wondered if he wanted to hang out| |he seems so down all the time| |thought maybe he needed to do something different|

|thoughtful of you seth| |to be honest though i think he wants to be alone right now|

|ok| |thats cool| |well i might go find someone else to pester then|

|you are not a pest seth|

|thanks boss| |see ya|

|wait seth|

|yeah|

|hows your dad doing|

|hes getting better| |mom says hes stronger every day|

|thats good news| |glad to hear it| |can you say hi to your family for me|

|sure thing sam|

|thank you seth|

|no probs| |bye| |*|

|radio silence indeed| |…| |four hours until i see emily|

_A/N – And I'm sorry. This section really isn't good. I know. I think I'm getting more gimmicky with my writing to try and interest myself in what I'm doing here. But the song does perfectly suit how Bella treats Jake. That worked. Didn't it? Please reassure me that even though the canon-train has derailed, we're not headed for a total train wreck…_


	10. Section 10: Drabbles XXXII to XXXIV

Hear that other sound? The rattling and clanging noise? That's the AU-train a-blastin' and a-steamin' into the station. All aboard, mateys! (Wait, did I just mix a conductor with a pirate? Yes, yes I think I did. See? Proof this story is sending me insaner than I already am! Huh, apparently 'insaner' is not a word. I guess I already knew that but it doesn't stop me from using it. Insaner, insaner, insaner! Take that, spellcheck!)

I'd be even insaner to pretend I owned the music, books or characters referred to herein.

* * *

><p><strong>|XXXII – Nature or Nurture| |Billy|<br>**Artist: Johnny Cash  
>Song: I Still Miss Someone (Johnny Cash, Ron Cash © 1958)<p>

_At my door the leaves are falling  
>A cold wild wind will come<br>Sweethearts walk by together  
>And I still miss someone<em>

_I go out on a party_  
><em>And look for a little fun<em>  
><em>But I find a darkened corner<em>  
><em>'Cause I still miss someone<em>

Sometimes I wonder if my boy wants something he can't have because he's so used to everything being taken from him. Losing people. Women, specifically.

"Morning Jake."  
>"Hi Dad. How's the foot?"<br>"Not too bad today. How's things with you?"  
>"Ok. I guess. Paul bit my arm last night. Sam bit his ear as punishment. It was kinda funny. I guess."<br>"Yeah?"  
>"Yeah. Where's the juice?"<br>"We're out. Embry came by when you were on patrol last night and I gave the last of it to him."  
>"Oh. Ok"<br>"Jake?"  
>"Mmm?"<br>"You seem pretty down. How are things? Really?"  
>"Not good, Dad. Bella... Bad, actually. Worse than normal…"<br>"How so, son?"  
>"Well, Bella. UGH, she… Shit, I can't tell you this stuff. It's garbage."<br>"Go ahead Jake, you can say whatever you want."  
>"Well, she... she uh, kindlyinformedmeyesterday HE isgoingtochangeher INAFEWWEEKS."<br>"No. No. Shit, Jake. No that can't be right."  
>"Oh believe me, Dad, believe me. She meant it."<br>"I don't know what to say. But I am so sorry to hear it."  
>"Thanks. I don't really want to talk about it anyway, Dad. Seven people in my head all the time, you know?"<br>"Fair enough, son. One thing?"  
>"Yeah?"<br>"The treaty?"  
>"Yeah! I fucking know. It's…. UGRH. I'm going outside before I phase in the kitchen again. Sorry, Dad."<br>"Perfectly ok."

Sarah. His mother. Looking at the statue on my dresser that Jake carved I am aware now he knows what he lost when she died. I used to hope he'd been young enough when it happened that he wouldn't know any different. Fat chance.

"Hi Rebecca."  
>"Hey Dad! Thanks for calling!"<br>"Not a problem kid. So how'd Solomon's last round go yesterday?  
>"Yeah, pretty good, he came third and a big sponsor is sniffing around so we're hopeful for a good contract. What's new in La Push?"<br>"Oh, same old, same old."  
>"You looking after yourself?"<br>"Yes ma'am! Your brother makes sure I don't starve or die or both."  
>"That's good, glad to hear it. School must be almost finished for the year, he'd be happy about that."<br>"Yeah. A week left. His grades aren't great this year though."  
>"What? I thought I told him to study harder?"<br>"Well he's going through a, uh, rough patch. Which is kind of what I was calling about…"  
>"What do you mean?"<br>"Friends. At school and in the tribe. There's some tension. And girl problems."  
>"Oh, right. So you want me to talk to him?"<br>"I was hoping you would. You were always closest to him like that. It's hard for him, you know, not having a female figure in his life."  
>"Yeah, ok Dad. No need to guilt trip me. I'll see what I can do."<br>"Please Bec? He needs this. I don't know what more I can say to him."  
>"Dad, I said I'd try. You don't need to get on my case about it."<br>"Alright. Well, I guess I should go. Gotta visit Harry. Say hi to Solomon for me and good luck with the sponsorship deal."  
>"Will do. And um, Dad?"<br>"Yeah Becs?"  
>"Can you, um, maybe put some flowers on Mom's grave for me sometime?"<br>"Of course. Love you, Bec."  
>"Love you too, Dad."<p>

Rebecca getting married and Rachel going to college – well, there's nothing wrong with either of those things. Except they made it so obvious they were escaping here. Which made it feel like they were escaping us too. Not that I blame them. At 18, what else would anyone do?

"Harry, you old bastard! How are you today?"  
>"Ok, Biwy. Alive. Thatsa start."<br>"You still sound like you're a drunk! Those drugs you're on can't be too bad."  
>"Ha. You try talkn outa one sida ya mouth."<br>"We're a good pair now, eh? My bottom half don't work and neither does your right half."  
>"Lucka the draw."<br>"Glad you see it as luck, Harry. More like bad frigging luck if you ask me. How's Leah doing anyway?"  
>"Now theressome bad luck. Poor gurl. Thinks thisus all her faul. Wone let me tell 'er othrwise eithr"<br>"Yeah. Poor girl. It's hardly fair on our kids, is it?"  
>"Nup. Fukn vamprs!"<br>"You can't be that sick if you can still swear!"  
>"Soo sez that too."<br>"Now we all know where Leah gets it from!"  
>"Hey! I neva swor round the kids. Gave up on tryn ta get Leah ta talk clean long time go tho."<br>"Haha! If anyone was ever going to make a good wolf, it'd be your Leah. You ever wonder what it'd have been like for us? If we'd phased?"  
>"Shure. Scaree, fun, noyin, tirin. I wouldna had stroke. Soo sez I woulda ben hotter too. Sumfin bout more muscles."<br>"Yeah, Sue would have loved you running around on four legs! I can only imagine. I think Sarah… Well, I think she'd have worried too much, you know?"  
>"You still miss 'er dontcha Biwy?"<br>"Hell yes. Always, always will. Mortality's a funny thing. None of us think about it until it's too late. But I guess thinking about it doesn't make a damned bit of difference anyway."  
>"Nah, shure doesn't. We awl still miss her. You just gotta do best you can wiv what you have."<p>

"Oh, sorry Billy. Didn't know you were here. Sue said I could come through to see Harry."  
>"It's ok, Bella."<br>"Hi Bewa"  
>"Hi Harry. I um, well, I just brought you these chewy chocolate chip cookie I know you like. There from me and Charlie."<br>"Ha. Charlie can't turn an ovin onta save 'is life. Thanks, kid."  
>"It's ok. I hope you keep getting better. I've got to run but Charlie will be down to see you tomorrow."<br>"K. Bye Bewa."  
>"See you Harry."<br>"Bella?"  
>"Yes Billy?"<br>"Can I speak to you before you leave?"  
>"Of – of course."<br>"Be back in a minute Harry."  
>"Shure Biwy."<p>

"Bella how much of my conversation with Harry did you hear before you came in?"  
>"Well, um, I – "<br>"The part about Sarah?"  
>"Uh, well, yes."<br>"I want you to think long and hard about what you heard Bella. Long and hard. Think about mortality. And love. Think about if you could be the kind of selfless person other people still love and miss nearly ten years after her death. Ask yourself if you are that kind of person."  
>"Ah…ok... Well, I've got to go now Billy."<br>"I mean it, Bella."  
>"We've talked about this before. My business is my business."<br>"And my son is my business. He used to think you were that kind of person."  
>"Look, I never asked him to think any particular way about me."<br>"You didn't give him much choice, Bella. You shoved yourself into his life and then disappeared again twice as abruptly. We all know why. Have you ever thought about what your actions have done not only to Seth but also to Jacob?"  
>"I – yes. Yes, I have thought about it. A lot. I'm so sorry about Seth and I'm sorry I've hurt Jake. But I never made him any promises."<br>"Promises are neither here nor there. You were friends and then you just _left_ Jake. Whether or not you ever had any intentions beyond friendship is irrelevant, leaving isn't something you do to a friend, Bella."  
>"It wasn't entirely my choice. I would have… I want things to be different, I thought maybe…but then I <em>told<em> Jake and now it's just, I don't know… I've really got to go Billy."  
>"Sure, sure."<p>

And Bella. Little Bella Swan. Jake got so damned close with her only to have her taken away too. Soon she'll be worse than taken. Strange to think that she never minded him being a shifter, a wolf. Sick to think that not only does she want the vampire, she wants to be a vampire. Christ, if only Charlie knew.

_A/N – A day in the life of Billy Black makes me want to snorgle him forever, and bake six sugar-free cakes for him, and find a cure for diabetes, and remove all vampires from the face of the earth with a flamethrower. Oh wait…  
>(Remember what I said about insaner. You startin' to believe me yet?) So instead, I teamed Billy up with the legendary Mr. Cash. I feel like this is some sort of comfort. Johnny was without question the greatest country musician. IMHO. He was a pretty funny dude too. If you ever get a chance, listen to his live albums <em>At Folsom Prison_ and _At San Quentin (The Complete 1969 Concert)_. His comments in between the songs are nearly as entertaining as the music._

* * *

><p><strong>|XXXIII – Angry Bite Snap| |Jake|<br>**Artist: Bonnie 'Prince' Billy  
>Song: Wolf Among Wolves (Will Oldfield © 2003)<p>

_She loves a soul,  
>That I've never been<br>A dog among dogs,  
>A man among men<br>And every day,  
>When I come home to her<br>She holds a phantom,  
>She kisses and she hugs him<br>And I am not  
>Averse to how she loves him<br>Why must I live and walk,  
>Unloved as what I am<em>

_Why can't I be loved as what I am_  
><em>A wolf among wolves, and not as a man<em>  
><em>Among men<em>

|*| |shes still in love with the prick| |he left her and she still loves him| |hes dead and she still loves him| |hes about a million years old and she still loves him| |he stinks he sparkles hes subzero and she still loves him| |hes going to kill her and she still loves him| |wow thats sick| |and i love her| |aint i just the special wolf|

|indeed you are jakey|

|leah| |what are you doing|

|lurking| |im good at it| |just like everything else i do| which is why you didnt even notice me| |that and the fact that you are an oblivious male| |not to mention you were wrapped up in your usual blankie of misery|

|at the risk of getting bitten i will say you are not very good at being nice leah|

|touche mini-alpha touche| |but to be honest i dont try to be nice| |if i did i would probably be good at it|

|why dont you try then|

|same reason you dont try to get over her jake|

|yeah| |…| |well i dont even know what that reason is anymore|

|its pretty simple really| |its love| |its a bad habit| |its a fear of letting go because the unknown could be worse than this pain| |its anger| |its disappointment in ourselves and in who we thought they were|

|yeah| |i guess it is all those things|

|besides you still have a microscopic chance with her so its not like you can give up on that any time soon| |even if you wanted to give up on it you couldnt|

|fuck off leah| |seriously i dont need that shit rubbed in my face|

|actually jake that was me trying to be nice|

|no wonder you dont try very often if you suck so badly at it|

|you jumped down my throat before i could finish|

|not like you dont do that to the rest of us|

|stop being a precious petty little shit and let me finish jacob|

|ok| |im all ears oh wise one|

|come to think of it your ears are rather disproportionately large when you are a wolf|

|leah do you have something to say or are you just going to insult me|

|stop being so damned sensitive black| |you know as well as the rest of us that you are the best looking wolf in the pack| |even sam admits it when he thinks no one else is listening|

|what| |how do you know what sam thinks| |i thought you avoided his thoughts like four-day-old raw chicken|

|haha| |yeah well unfortunately for me the embargo he puts on his thoughts around you boys is a bit leaky around me|

|man that sucks leah| |sorry to hear it|

|its ok| |he doesnt realise it| |im storing it all up as ammo for some later date| |anyway i was just gona say i think the fact that shes a pale idiot who is making a shit choice but who could still change her mind is also making it impossible for you to let go| |for that i dont blame you|

|dont insult her leah|

|well then dont kid yourself jake| |it is an idiotic choice shes making| |but at least its a choice|

|…|

|yeah you got no comeback for that eh jakey|

|whatever|

|no its not whatever| |its bullshit| |sam me emily| |we never had a fucking choice|

|dont think i havent tried to get her to make a different choice| |but what do you mean sam never had a choice| |he could have fought the imprint harder|

|sure he could have| |but he never had a choice about the imprint happening| |and emily certainly never chose for it to occur either| |doesnt mean they should have accepted it though|

|hmm| |right|

|but at least i have the ever so comforting luxury of knowing it was no ones choice| |you dont| |paleface had the option to pick you and she still hasnt| |so i sort of see how much suckage you have ahead of you| |doesnt mean i really wana hear you go through it though|

|thanks| |that was so heartening| |howd u get so smart anyway leah|

|jake i always was smart|

|true|

|speaking of smart i like that line you came up with|

|what| |which one|

||he stinks he sparkles hes subzero|| |nice alliteration jakey| |im gona use that next time im close enough to a vamp to insult it|

|maybe it should be our cheer or call to arms or something|

|see there you go jake| |you can still joke| |keep up the good work|

|*||did i hear something about cheerleaders|

|no quil|

|no quil|

|oh great its the black queen and her apprentice the master of misery| |i picked the wrong time to phase didnt i|

|fuck off quil| |im finished my shift anyway| |theres nothing on the whole perimeter|

|whole perimeter| |did you run the whole thing|

|yes quil| |twice| |unlike your short fat ass i can actually run| |fast| |*|

|how the hell do you put up with her jake|

|its not so bad|

|huh| |what| |are you mental| |shes doom personified|

|leahs ok|

|you mean her misery is preferable to yours|

|something like that|

|look jake i like bella too| |and none of us like that she's back with the dead douche| |but man you gotta get outta this funk and get better|

|thanks quil but i dont think theres anything that will make me feel better| |i gotta go| |*|

|shit what a sad ass|

|*| |hi quil| |whos a sad ass|

|hi embry| |who do you think|

|jake| |or leah| |and or both|

|correct| |option c| |all of the above|

|oh well| |lets go run this damned boundary again| |race you|

|sure thing embers|

_A__/N - It's an odd song for sure. If the studio cut didn't do it for you, here's an eerie, haunting __l__ive version__._

* * *

><p><strong>|XXXIV – Speculation| |Bella|<br>**Artist: Kasey Chambers  
>Song: Little Bird (Chambers © 2010)<p>

_But a little bird told me as plain as day  
>If I changed my name and I change my way<br>You might come back  
>If I sell my soul for the greater cause<br>If I burn my records and I listen to yours  
>You might come back<br>And a little bird said in the middle of a dream  
>If I shut my mouth and I don't make a scene<br>You might come back  
>If I crossed my fingers and curl my toes<br>If I looked liked the other girls  
>Everybody knows<br>You might come back  
>But I don't want you that bad<br>No I don't want you that bad_

_-Silence. Broken by the sound of Bella's pen scratching in a notebook.-_

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be loved just for being Bella, _a_ human, instead for being Bella, _the_ human (who happens to smell fantastically appetising).

Chances are it wouldn't feel too different than this does right now with Edward. It would probably, but not certainly, be very similar. Alas, I do not like uncertainty and I'm a little nervous because it feels like a new unknown is tumbling around in my mind. I used to just be scared of saying goodbye to my friends and parents (and three days of agony) but now... things seem, I'm not sure, minutely different somehow, I guess.

It never once occurred to me that any doubt within me could be so easily encapsulated until I overheard Billy. But no matter, it's only one person's opinion. Still, I should never have told Jake about my plans, although, in my defence, I sort of thought he'd just know. And while I knew he wouldn't be happy with it, I didn't think he'd hate me. Forever. I guess that's what mortal enemies do. Anyway, Edward is due over so I'd better stop all this pontificating.

_-Silence. Broken by the non-sound of Edward landing on the floor near the window.-_

"Bella, what are you doing at your desk, love? I thought you'd already be in bed by now."

"Nothing. I just opened the window and was waiting for you, Edward."

"But before I scaled the roof I heard you doing something. Writing? Aren't you done fussing over your entrance essays?"

"Oh, well, yes. I was writing."

"What, love?"

"Just thoughts, Edward."

"Thoughts?"

"Yes. My thoughts."

"Bella, I do wish I could read you better."

_-Silence. Not broken by Bella thinking no one's ever read her better than Jake.-_

_A/N - Thaaaat's all folks! Review if you please :)_


	11. Section 11: Drabbles XXXV to XXXVII

Nothing to say except peace and love to you all. (I recently realised I'm being an irresponsible author because I didn't make obvious warnings about character death. So now you know and are forewarned.)

None of it's mine, bar the words and the warped ideas.

* * *

><p><strong>|XXXV – Endings| |Bella|<br>**Artist: Kenny Chesney  
>Song: Who You'd be Today (Bill Luther, Aimee Mayo © 2005)<p>

_Sunny days seem to hurt the most  
>Wear the pain like a heavy coat<br>I feel you everywhere I go  
>I see your smile, I see your face<br>I hear you laughing in the rain  
>Still can't believe you're gone<em>

Sometimes you have those days when your world turns inside out and upside down all at once.

That's what happened the day Edward left; the day I jumped off the cliff; and then the day the phone call I'd been waiting for finally came. At least, I'd been waiting for the caller, just not the news.

I was at home enjoying a rare moment alone. Charlie was working. Edward was hunting. I was supposed to be studying for finals. Instead, I was procrastinating by constructing a huge lasagne. It was proving to be a good diversion from the confusion of my life and from my worries over vampires and werewolves until the phone rang, shrill and loud in the otherwise empty kitchen.

I picked it up, not realising it was the start of one of those life-changing moments.

"It's done." A familiar, rough voice reached me through the plastic handset.

"Jake? What's done?" I was instantly nervous. We hadn't spoken since he'd told me he'd rather me dead than turned.

"Victoria. She's finished."

"Oh god Jake. Oh my god. That's… I don't know what to say. It's such a relief. But is everyone ok?" I looked out the window – it was sunny. I wondered, with no small amount of hysteria, if she'd sparkled when the wolves had pulled her down.

His answer came back after a heavy pause. "No."

I gripped the receiver and my body tensed instinctively waiting for the answer. Whatever was to come I knew I was to blame.

"No?" I asked in a whisper. "What hap- who? Who is hurt?" I could barely push the words out. They broke and stuck in my throat.

"Seth's dead." Jacob's voice was clipped as if those two syllables caused him immeasurable pain.

I slid down the kitchen wall; somehow I was on the floor in a knotted heap. _Say something_ my brain berated me. _This is Jake, you owe him so much, a reply is the least you can give._

"What?" I heard myself choke out. "NO. No, no, no. Oh Jesus, Jake. I'm so, so sorry. Oh poor Sue and Harry and Leah…" I couldn't say anymore.

The hysterical part of my brain piped up again, this time saying that making Harry his favourite chewy chocolate chip cookies wouldn't be enough. Why do we always think of the most inane, useless things in a moment of total fear and grief?

The sound of Jake's words brought me back. "I've got to go, Bella." He was terse. Furious. Full of pain. "Your dad is down here. The official story is Seth fell from one of the cliffs." Then there was a click.

The line went quiet and I was left reeling, slumped against the floor, tangled with a cabinet, the half-made lasagne on the counter behind me. It seemed crazy that only five minutes earlier I'd been worried the pasta sheets weren't fitting into the pan properly. Now someone was dead.

A boy was dead. Beautiful, carefree, happy Seth Clearwater was dead because of me.

"Thank you," I whispered into the silent phone.

I had no idea how long I remained prone, crumpled under the weight of my blame and remorse. Eventually the phone started beeping at me and I realised my legs had gone to sleep. Standing slowly, I placed the phone in its cradle and wondered if the pins and needles shooting down my limbs were similar to what Billy felt.

I shook my head, angry at myself. So far I'd thought about the sunshine, Harry's favourite cookies and Billy's diabetes. I was an idiot. I needed to do better than this!

If Edward leaving had taught me anything, it was that I could survive. _And you owe it to the pack to do better this time,_ the annoying voice in my head reminded me. As dazed as I was, I couldn't argue with it. Jake had kept me alive and now Seth had died for me.

Died. There was no coming back for fourteen-year-old Seth Clearwater. He was gone.

Gripping the counter to support myself, I remembered the last time I'd seen Billy and Harry. How I'd overheard their private conversation and how Billy had lectured me afterwards.

_Think about mortality,_ he'd said. _And love. Think about if you could be the kind of selfless person other people still miss nearly ten years after her death. _

With that thought, my tears started. Tackling the lasagne again I doubled the quantities and cried for Seth's early death. I watched the salty drops land in the sauce as I stirred it and realised this was all I could give back. The boy had given his life for me and I was crying into the food I was making for his family.

Six dozen of Harry's favourite cookies and two lasagnes later I loaded the truck up and headed down to the Rez.

* * *

><p><strong>|XXXVI – <strong>**Déjà Vu****| |Billy|  
><strong>Artist: Kenny Chesney  
>Song: <span>Who You'd be Today<span> (Bill Luther, Aimee Mayo © 2005)

_It ain't fair you died too young  
>Like a story that had just begun<br>But death tore the pages all away  
>God knows how I miss you<br>All the hell that I've been through  
>Just knowing no one could take your place<br>Sometimes I wonder who you'd be today_

I hate funerals. But then who doesn't? We all die. It's just a matter of when.

There's less snuffling here than I remember from when Sarah died. The kids we were trying to project then are the ones crying today.

Leah is raw and angry as though she's burning alive. Sam comes up to hug her in the parking lot before the service and she falls apart, the tears finally rushing down her face. I watch as she pushes him away and reaches instead for Jacob who rocks her gently where she stands.

The three of them have already bourn more hurt than they should have for their years. In this moment it is the pain that seems to bind them because suddenly they are all holding each other, sobbing together in a messy group armistice.

Jake, Sam, Jared, Paul, Quil and Emby take their positions as pallbearers. Sue's brothers wanted to help but she told them no, let the boys do it. She knows the pack is trying to apologise for not being able to save her son. There's a moment of confusion as Leah decides to join our tribe's young men at the head of her brother's casket. Then they're all walking.

Walking to put the poor boy in the ground.

Harry is not yet strong enough to carry his son's coffin but he forces himself to walk beside it. He can not hold both his crutches and wipe his tears away so Sue runs a handkerchief over his face.

Charlie and little Bella Swan are here too. I catch Charlie's eye and know that, like me, he's thinking of the last time we buried family.

Bella is paler than pale. After the burial is over I see her hug Sue and Harry, long and hard. One look at Leah's face is enough to tell Bella not to try any sympathetic gestures so instead Bella shuffles off to stand in front of my son. They stare at each other for minutes, neither speaking.

Finally, as the crowd trickles from the cemetery, Jake breaks their gaze and follows the rest of the pack out. Before he reaches me he pauses to pull the flower from his buttonhole and lays it on his mother's headstone.

We all die. It's only a matter of when. For Seth Clearwater it was just too damned early.

* * *

><p><strong>|XXXVII – Combat| |Jake|<br>**Artist: Kenny Chesney  
>Song: Who You'd be Today (Bill Luther, Aimee Mayo © 2005)<p>

_Would you see the world?  
>Would you chase your dreams?<br>Settle down with a family?  
>I wonder, what would you name your babies?<br>Some days the sky's so blue  
>I feel like I can talk to you<br>And I know it might sound crazy_

|jake jake jake| |jake where are you man| |ive got her| |the redhead| |cornered her in the caves at second beach|

|shit kid| |dont do anything stupid| |we are all heading there now| |just hang tight and dont take her on yourself| |paul you and embry head to the beach from the south| |quil get jared and while youre phased tell colin and brady to cover la push| |when youre back take the north side| |im going for sam and leah| |be there as fast as i can| |*|

|jaredll be getting it on at kims| |he wont have heard the howl| |fuck| |see you asap guys| |*|

|em an me are about thirty seconds off your right flank kid| |just wait for us|

|ok paul| |ya know i get it now| |why you guys enjoyed destroying the last one| |this is kinda fun|

|fucks sake seth| |pay attention shes more dangerous than that one| |paul you cover his back| |i got the beach| |we got a visual on you seth now| |whatever you do dont go in that cave with her|

|*| |jareds coming|

|*| |im here| |its party time| |lets hit this bitch|

|come on lover boy| |race you to cover seths left flank|

|youre on quil|

|guys| |wheres jake| |ahhhhhh| |shit that hurt|

|jesus seth you heard embry| |get the hell outa that cave mouth|

|cant paul| |can only back out when jared and quil have the other side of the beach covered or shes got an escape route|

|*| |what just happened| |seth are you ok| |im gona take the cliff top and come in from above|

|im good jake| |she just tossed me around a bit|

|*| |FOCUS everyone| |hold your positions until jake and i get there|

|cant we bait her just a little sam|

|NO paul| |hold steady| |keep a semi circle around the cave|

|visual on your furry ass now seth| |ive got nine oclock covered| |jared sex is making you slow|

|thanks for that quil| |im behind you now too kid alongside paul|

|*| |seth| |shit mom is going to beat you senseless| |get the hell outa that goddamned cave|

|EASY leah| |hes ok| |its just cat and mouse|

|well you hurry the fuck up then sam and get your ass down there in that cave instead of my baby brother|

|we cant all be as fast as you leah| |seth you bail and let her out of the cave if you have to| |understood|

|jesus im not a baby guys| |ouch| |man shes got some hit on her|

|SETH| |bail if you have too| |UNDERSTOOD|

|yeah sam|

|cliff tops covered|

|im in position at five oclock between paul and embry| |where the hell are you sam you fucking slow shit|

|EASY leah| |good work jake| |im twenty seconds out and taking the northwest part of the beach between jared and quil| |as soon as i give the order you will lure her out seth and then jakes gona drop down from above|

|my brother is not fucking bai-|

|now seth NOW|

That's when I always woke up. Sometimes Sam's voice jerked me back to consciousness but tonight the impact of landing on my feet in the dream startled me awake. Each time I dreamt about that day, I jumped from a hundred feet up, just as in reality.

I rubbed my eyes, turned over and lay in bed staring at the ceiling. At least when I was awake I didn't hear the conversation over and over again. But I could still picture everything that had happened and often couldn't stop the scene from replaying in my head. Tonight was going to be one of those waking nightmares.

_I'm at Second Beach: I can see from my perfect birds' eye view a semi-circle of wolves around the cave's mouth as they crouch and wait. Leah whines anxiously; Quil and Embry grin at each other with lolling tongues from where they stand on opposite sides of the circle; Sam issues fierce instructions._

_Then all hell breaks loose. Seth engages with the crazy killer and they roll out of the cave onto the beach, snarling and ripping at each other. I jump the moment I see her flame-red hair and as I land, she realises she's surrounded._

I shook my head, forced the images to stop and myself back to the present. 'Get a grip,' I mumbled, as I dragged my ass out of bed and headed to the kitchen for a glass of water. Standing at the sink staring out the window, the slow-mo horror movie started up again.

_The redhead goes apeshit. Paul darts in to help Seth but somehow she's everywhere: she pins Seth under one foot and still manages to break Paul's wrist. Sam yells at us to hold fire but Leah, wanting to protect Seth, attacks. _

_In the same moment as Leah makes an arcing leap, I jump from behind because someone has to do something. It's all too late though. The fucking vamp snaps Seth's neck with a quick kick just as Leah and I separate her head from her body. We all phase, Leah cradles her brother's naked body, Sam sets the redheaded bitch's corpse on fire. I'm so sorry Lee, he says, I should have alpha ordered you to stand down._

Something made a noise and I looked down. The glass in my hand had smashed against the counter. I ripped off my boxers and walked out the front door naked. Hitting the lawn, I phased and saw Seth's headstone through Leah's eyes in the moonlit cemetery.

|*| |hey leah|

|remember how i once said theres nothing we can talk about that will make me feel better jake|

|yeah|

|well i changed my mind| |i just wana tell you i hate bella fucking swan| |she had no right to bring us food or come to his funeral| |*|

|you don't have to go leah| |leah| |…| |damn| |*|

Going wolf wouldn't bring peace tonight so I walked across the cemetery on two feet and sat down next to Seth's grave. Leah was long gone and Seth wouldn't have minded me slouching there naked.

"To tell you the truth," I said to nothing or no one in particular, "Sometimes I hate Bella Swan too."

Then I burst into a mixture of laughter and tears. "Aww fuck Seth," I told him, "we all know that's a lie. I wish for your sake I could hate her. But I can't really. Not nearly as much as I should anyway."

I wiped my eyes and traced the verse inscribed on his headstone with wet fingers.

_His was a man's courage,  
><em>_His was a boy's life.  
><em>

_Darling Seth, your love will light our way, your memory will ever be with us._

"Sometime I wish I'd died instead of you but then Billy would have no one. I'm sorry to be so selfish, little buddy."

_A/N - for once I have nothing to say. I hope you do though..._


	12. Section 12: Drabbles XXVIII to XL

I still don't have much to say. Weird. I think I'm feeling ok though. We reach the 40th drabble/story/chaperette/whatever-you-wanna-call-it herein. That's kinda cool. I'm not the owner of Twigglelight or these songs (but you can still love me with reviews!)…

* * *

><p><strong>|XXXVIII – Begin (The Someone)| |Rachel &amp; Paul|<br>**Artist: Kid Rock/Sheryl Crow (Rock, Crow © 2001)  
>Song: Picture<p>

_I thought about you for a long time  
>Can't seem to get you off my mind<br>I can't understand why we're living life this way  
>I found your picture today<br>I swear I'll change my ways  
>I just called to say I want you to come back home<br>I found your picture today  
>I swear I'll change my ways<br>I just called to say I want you to come back home  
>I just called to say I love you, come back home<em>

You think it's kind of sad that after nearly four years of slave-driving yourself you ended up here: back on the rez. You do have a degree to your name but no idea what to do with it. Graduation was your one goal for so long that you forgot to think beyond. So you grudgingly come home just for the summer because you're unsure what else to do and you know you can't stay away forever.

You arrive expecting the skinny little brother and sad father you left behind but you've forgotten that you're not the only one touched and changed by time. The little brother is now huge. And strangely, he's the sad one. Your father is older but so are you, meaning you can see his wisdom and the peace he has found in life.

Things at home aren't too bad but there's something disconcerting about the way your father and brother always seem to be co-conspirators in a big joke to which you're not privy. Maybe this is what too much time alone but together has done to them. Or maybe this is just what men are like. You're really not sure because you've been too damned busy studying and working to get too seriously involved with any boys.

It would seem that you've missed a lot more than the just changes in your own family. Your childhood friend Leah has had her heart broken. Three times. You realise with a pang of regret that you weren't there for her when that dickhead Sam dumped her, when her father had a stroke or when her little brother died in a tragic accident. It is with shock you comprehend that Seth never even got to finish ninth grade. No one likes to talk about tragedy, and god knows the Clearwaters have had their fair share of it, but everyone is particularly close-mouthed about this. It's like you're an outsider now, not even a real part of the tribe anymore.

Charlie Swan spends a lot of time with your dad; they've always been friends but these days it's almost like he belongs here more than you do. He tells you with great pride that his daughter Bella (Remember her? he asks. How could you forget? She came to all your childhood birthday parties and somehow, in her quiet way, prevented Jake from causing too much chaos.) is going to university this fall. You smile politely and ask him to tell her to get in touch if she has any questions. Charlie looks kind of uncomfortable with this and you remember just how awkward the poor man can be sometimes.

Jake is gone a lot, although he usually manages to materialise out of thin air to give Charlie Swan a slap on the back just as the Chief is leaving from one of his protracted visits. Other than a lot of jogging, you have no idea what Jake does with his time. He's so moody (and it's usually worse after Charlie's been around) that you ask if he's on steroids. For some reason both he and your dad find this hilarious. Then suddenly you wonder if Jake's been in trouble with the law and if Charlie keeps coming by to check up on him.

You test your theory about Jake and Charlie one afternoon while you're changing the dressings on your dad's bad foot. (You have no idea how Jake has been dealing with Billy's diabetes on his own for years and feel like a total bitch for not knowing how bad it was.) Your father tells you in no uncertain terms that Jake has never done a damned thing to break the law and that he's a good kid, the best there is. Then he shows you the statue Jake carved of your mother and you share a few tears together. You might be a little out of the Quileute loop but you feel unexpectedly closer to your dad again.

There's a tribe party down on the beach one night and despite feeling out of place, you go. At least if you're pushing your dad's wheelchair, it gives you a reason to be there. You give your sympathy to Harry and Sue and they smile bravely. It's disturbing to see how old Harry looks although you know he's the same age as your dad. Abruptly you discover that you're glad to have come home. Harry offers you a cookie and it's delicious. You must look shocked because Sue jokes and says don't worry, he didn't bake it, you'd be cracking your teeth if he had!

Leah arrives part way through the night to take Harry home because he's tired. She doesn't glare at you as much as she does everyone else. She reserves a special filthy look for Sam and the scarred girl sitting beside him who must be Emily. You try not to take sides because there aren't many people your age to hang around with so you don't want to piss any of them off.

Jake spends the night surrounded by a bunch of kids who all had more pimples and hormones than brains the last time you saw them. Like him though, they've all grown up. There's something odd about how close they seem but then maybe it's just because you're a jealous outsider. You hear one of them, Jared (was that his name?) say something about a 'pack' and then the plain-looking girl beside him smacks him on the arm while looking cautiously at you. You're left wondering a pack of what? gum? cigarettes? beer? and think that one of all of the above would go down ok right about now but you manage to survive the night without.

Apparently that bonfire was the event of the month, as far as the La Push social calendar is concerned. You start to feel restless after a couple of weeks of mooching around the house and wonder how the hell people don't die of boredom here. Then you're instantly guilty because you remember your dead mother and little baby Seth in the ground not a mile up the road.

Sickened by your own stupidity, you go for a walk and pick some blue asters with the intention of leaving them on your mother's and Seth's graves – last time you talked to your sister on the phone, she'd asked you to do as much. When you get to the cemetery you see a very familiar old truck heading up the road. Strange. You thought Bella Swan had that truck now.

At Seth's headstone, you notice the flowers in front of it form a strange shape. Bending down, you see the stems are woven together in letters that spell _thank you_. You leave the graveyard in a hurry, disturbed by the fact that everywhere you turn there's another quirk you don't understand.

Walking along the beach staring at the pebbles you wonder what the hell you're going to do with your life. The trouble with leaving is that when you come back to the place you were from, you can no longer call it home. You're not sure if there's anything you can do about it, maybe you're too late to fit in again. You kick a chunk of driftwood and hear a thunk followed by a chuckle. Looking up you realise you've nearly walked into someone. Not just any old someone. A muscled, attractive, male someone.

In the half second it takes for you to drag your eyes from the pebbles at his feet to his face, you realise you don't know this someone but he seems very familiar. All the things you've been trying to make sense of recently blur together in your head: your angry/sad brother, your mysterious father, your future, your dead mother, your lack of belonging, your old friends, your tribe. You have this strange, tingling premonition that this someone in front of you holds all of the answers but before you can properly grasp the idea, it's gone.

The Someone (as you're mentally calling him) is gawking at you like you're an alien – hell, you _have_ been feeling like one recently so maybe you've finally sprouted a set of green, wiggling antenna. The Someone's mouth is hanging open like he got punched in the gut halfway through his chuckle. You decide it's kind of creepy and withdraw your initial impression that he's attractive.

Still, you decide to do the right thing and politely introduce yourself because your mother always said it was better to make friends than enemies. Sticking out your hand, you say Rachel Black. The Someone grabs your hand like a drowning man reaching for a life preserver and shakes it a lot. You notice two things: one, his hand is ridiculously warm (which is kind of nice) and two he still hasn't said his name (which is kind of weird). Again, you decide forgive his lack of manners and bail him out by saying And you are? in a slightly mocking tone.

Hi Rachel, it's so so nice to finally meet you, he says with a wobbly, vacant smile on his face and your hand still trapped in his. You're convinced he's either a super simpleton or a super stalker so you retrieve your hand quickly and start backing away cautiously – you read somewhere this is the least confronting thing to do around a crazy person. And this Someone is definitely not sane.

You're halfway back to your house and just about to congratulate yourself on getting out of a sticky situation (La Push has changed in more ways than you thought if it even has its own town creep now) when you hear his voice behind you. He's yelling something about No wait, he's sorry, please don't go, can't we just talk. That's when you really start hurrying. You just manage to reach the edge of the wheelchair ramp outside the house when you feel his hot hand on your shoulder and he's begging you: Rachel, please, just let me explain. Turning around you're about to tell him to fuck off when the door bursts open and your brother roars out of the house.

All of a sudden both boys are swinging at each other. Jacob is yelling how dare you? how dare you? and on my sister too, you filthy fucker. The Someone is trying to defend himself while saying over and over, I didn't mean to, it just happened. What the hell, Jake? you yell at your little brother, who is apparently as irrational as The Someone. You try to step between them, putting a hand to each broad chest, but The Someone pushes you, surprisingly gently, to one side and then goes back to pounding your brother.

DAD! you yell, although you're not sure what a man in a wheelchair can do – maybe he's got a baseball bat somewhere you could use to beat these two stupid boys apart. Jake's doing his fair share of the pounding too so you figure the odds are even and it'll be ok to go get your father and/or look for a weapon. Inside the house your dad's saying Thanks Sam, and hanging the phone up. He seems unconcerned but looks at you with a mixture of resignation and sadness on his face. He says, Sam Uley'll be over shortly to sort them out but try to stay out of their way in the mean time. Then rolls into the kitchen so he can watch the fight through the window.

Two minutes later a deep ENOUGH! reverberates from the front yard and Sam is separating your brother from The Someone whose name you still don't know. Sam is yelling at the boys, Jacob you WILL let Paul see your sister and Paul you WON'T fight with Jacob. The pair of them hang their heads like chastised puppies and you feel instantly sorry for them. But that's just stupid because not five minutes ago you were creeped out by this Paul and then frightened by the seemingly irrational fight.

Sam is looking at you through the window and motioning for you to come outside. For some reason, you do as he says, even if you dislike him on Leah's behalf. With the air of someone doing something he'd rather not, you realise Sam's talking to you. He says Normally I'd give this a lot more time and wouldn't intervene but I guess we'd better get it over and done with and I'd best be here for it. Oh joy, you think, one more cryptic little story that makes no sense.

The Someone, Paul, you remind yourself, is looking at you and asking Remember our stories? Our stories? you repeat derisively; you don't even know him so how he can assume the collective familiarity of 'our'? He ignores you and launches into a garbled telling of what you eventually recognise as the old familiar Quileute stories about men, wolves, and men who were also wolves. Why he sees fit to do this in broad daylight is beyond you – these stories are only for bonfires and special occasions. Definitive proof this Paul character is crazy, you think. Which means your brother and Sam, who are standing beside him nodding encouragingly are probably also crazy. Not good.

While you're digesting all of this, you hear Sam say I don't think she's taking in much, maybe you'd better just show her, Paul. Show me what? you ask because you're not fucking stupid like they seem to think. Paul looks frantically at Sam and babbles I don't think I can, phase I mean, because she's here, it's not safe, I just want to keep her safe. This Paul is definitely a total loon so you start backing away carefully again.

For some reason your dumbass brother laughs and asks Paul You want me to make you lose your temper? There's a scuffle, a pop like static electricity in the air and abruptly you're looking at a giant, grey, furry, four-legged…thing. You realise the bird analogy was wrong: there's no loon here, and instead, just like in _One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest_, it's actually you, not them, who is crazy. The very fact you're thinking about this in such detail probably proves the point.

Jacob is standing beside you, one arm around your shoulders. You realise he is overly-warm, just like Paul's hand was. Paul? what happened to Paul? you ask. Jake points at the grey thing. It's like a train wreck or a gory movie: you don't want to look at it but you can't keep your eyes away. Paul? you ask again. The huge thing whines softly like a nervous dog and then slowly lowers itself in front of you until the massive head is resting on front paws the size of your feet.

Jake is repeating It's ok, it's part of the tribe's history, some of us still change between human and wolf but we usually keep it secret unless it's necessary to break the silence. He says it'll all make sense soon enough, there are reasons for everything. That's when his face twists in an ugly frown and your dad interrupts things by throwing a pair of shorts over the edge of the veranda. Sam catches the clothing and holds it out to the grey thing. Standing slowly, the beast takes the shorts in its teeth and then reverses into the woods, never breaking eye contact with you.

Thirty seconds later Paul jogs out of the woods and you wonder if your breakfast cereal was laced with psychoactive drugs so you just stand there and blink one eye and then other. A lot. Then you walk into the house and demand an explanation from your father. Oddly, his story is the same as Paul's. You keep pinching your arm until there's a big bruise on it. Eventually Jake takes you outside to the back yard and shows you his wolf. You have to admit that if you're stuck with a sort-of werewolf as a brother, at least he's a pretty colour.

When Jake's back on two legs and decent again you ask him where Paul and Sam have gone. He sighs and takes you back inside where he and your dad start in with the legends again. Most disturbingly, they tell you all the crap about Cold Ones is true too. Paul and Sam are doing something called 'patrol' to make sure no Cold Ones are lurking in the bushes waiting to gobble up the tribe. If it wasn't so horrifying, you'd laugh at the cheap, B-grade, horror-flick plotline that is now your life. You're just grateful you didn't meet Paul that night at the bonfire because if all his hoodoo voodoo wolfy shit had happened in public, it would have been pretty dang ugly.

As for the rest of the 'reasons for everything' to which Jake alluded, you eventually learn from Paul (in about two weeks when you let him within a 100 foot radius) that you're his imprint – a polite term for the most primal meaning of the word mate. Eww, you think, he's four years younger than me. Then you sneak a glance at his muscles and decide you can probably deal with that. Probably. The whole imprint thing explains the Sam and Leah disaster. You feel a little better because even if you had been here when it happened, you wouldn't have understood or been able to do much.

You ask Paul about Seth because you suspect all the things that don't make sense are linked. Paul shudders and nearly looses his shape while he's trying to explain so you reach out and touch him. He's instantly calmer and his warmth feels so nice that you don't complain when he weaves his fingers into yours. Paul talks about a bunch of vamps called the Cullens, a treaty and Bella Swan (you knew she fit into this somehow). When he tells you Bella's boyfriend is a dead, bloodsucking Cullen, you endeavour to control your gag reflex. A hot hand rubs your back and Paul makes a joke out of the madness with a shy but charming grin: Not all monsters are bad, he says.

Get on with the damned story, you demand, trying to hide your own grin. According to your wolf, these Cullens haven't tried to kill Bella – yet – but some shit went down last year when another bloodsucker made an attempt on her life. The Cullens destroyed that leech to save Bella and then its mate spent a while trying to get its fangs into Bella. (You're not entirely sure you're following this correctly because it seems worse than the B-grade plot now, more like a Penny Dreadful.) The result was that the pack (ah, now you get what that means) killed the crazy vamp and poor, brave Seth was collateral damage.

You want to know where your brother fits into all of this with his anger and sadness. Paul sighs, suddenly unsure of himself. It's not really my place to tell you, he says. Please? you ask. Paul gives your fingers a little squeeze and says Well, Jake loves Bella and he's afraid that she's going to be killed, or worse, vamp-ified. Huh? but Jake barely knows her except from when we were kids, you say. Nah, Paul tells you, Jake spent all spring with her, patching her up after her leech left and broke her heart. Jake thought he had half a chance and then the fucking leech returned and the stupid girl ran back to it.

Oh, you say. Yeah, oh alright, Paul repeats after you. You look at him and try to imagine what it'd be like if he left now. Somehow you can't.

_A/N – I've always liked this song even though I'm not a Kid Rock fan. (Hell, he did completely rip off __Warren Zevon's _Werewolves of London_ to make _All Summer Long_, yet no recognizes that – everything thinks it's just _Sweet Home Alabama_ redone!) Y__ears ago I drove through the area in southeast Michigan state where Kid Rock (Robert James "Bob" Ritchie) grew up and man, it's a gritty place so I can appreciate where some of his music comes from. On his 2003 album _Cocky_this duet was sung with Sheryl Crow but the record company couldn't get the rights to release Crow's version as the single so it was rerecorded by Allison Moorer. Radio stations didn't really give a damned and played both versions! I like Crow, so this is her version._

* * *

><p><strong>|XXXIX – He SaidShe Said| |Bella, Jake, Edward|  
><strong>Artist: Reba McEntire  
>Song: Bridge You Burn (Tony Martin, Wendell Mobley, Neil Thrasher © 2010)<p>

_He's the lesson you learn  
>He's the dead end you see when you realize you made a wrong turn<br>He's that one last look back when you finally get over the hurt  
>He's the bridge you burn, burn down<em>

_Then you turn around and say  
>Man that was a close one<br>He's the lesson you learn  
>He's the dead end you see when you realize you made a wrong turn<em>

She didn't have to take her last exam. Death of a close family friend and all that.

She survived graduation and received her diploma without tripping on stage.

She spent July crying, avoiding her boyfriend and thinking about her erstwhile best friend. She worked at Newton's and hung out with her dad. In between, she baked a lot of chewy chocolate chip cookies to leave on the doorstep of a La Push house and picked a lot of wildflowers to leave on a grave of the La Push cemetery.

In August her truck died. Apathy, fear of speaking to her usual mechanic and a lack of funds prevented her from getting it fixed. Her father got tired of watching her trudge past his police station on her way to work and made a phone call.

She came home on warm Thursday afternoon to see a very familiar pair of long legs sticking out from under the rusty monolith.

She said nothing but sat on the steps of her father's house and watched her best friend fix the truck her father'd bought for her. Thinking about all the things these two men had done for her overwhelmed her with a feeling of uselessness. A strange sense of déjà vue filled the air too – the place and the time were different but the actions were the same: him fixing, her watching.

Her old best friend did not speak to her or acknowledge her presence. Only when the truck was running did he chance a look in her direction as he turned to leave. She glanced up from the fingernail she was murdering and found herself locked in an angry black glare.

"Graduation was over a month ago. You should be dead by now. What the hell are you playing at this time?" he spat at her.

She cringed but couldn't look away. "Living. Thanks to Seth," was her faint answer.

He snorted, broke eye contact and walked towards his car. "I'm only here because your dad asked me to come," he snarled over his shoulder.

"Thank you," she whispered, trying to put all of her meaning into the two small, lonely words.

He was in his car but something stopped him from leaving. He rolled the window down but couldn't bring himself to speak directly to her. "Your dad - he loves you so much, you know," he said to the steering wheel.

She rose to her feet on the veranda, "I know he does. I love him too," she whispered and then he was gone in a shower of gravel.

They both knew they weren't just talking about her father.

Her boyfriend couldn't understand why she was so sad. She had secured a place at Dartmouth, a furnished apartment awaited her in Hanover, and, best of all, she no longer raised the issue of immortality.

He knew one of the wolves had died killing the redhead. He felt a vague sense of discomfort about this because it should have been him who destroyed the vampire that'd threatened her.

Then on the evening of the first day of September his sister gave him a sad look.

He arrived at the small weatherboard house in Forks shortly afterward to discover the old red truck full of belongings. His beloved's belongings.

"I'm going to Cheney, near Spokane. Alone." she said evenly by way of explanation as she tied a tarp over the back of the truck.

"Spokane?"

"Eastern Washington University. They have a good social work program. I'm sick of being the only one not able to help anyone, fix anything." She looked tired as she answered. Sad and tired but resolute.

He tried everything. He spent the night and cajoled, wheedled, begged, promised, bribed and kissed while he held her. Yet she would not budge on her unexpected decision to abandon Dartmouth. And him.

"Let me come with you? Please, my love?"

She took so long to answer he thought perhaps she really had lost her mind from the stress of the past few months.

Eventually she replied with an unusually long speech, turning her head on the pillow to look at him. "No. I love you. I always will. But you cannot come with me.

"Before you left, you were my everything – all that I was ever going to need to have a perfect life. I realised after Seth died life is never perfect; it's messy and ugly. I know now I accepted your apology and took you back so I could hide from the messiness for a while longer. Except it didn't work and it took a death for me to see that.

"Seth died because of me and the choices I made. I have a fourteen year old's blood on my hands and nothing you do or say can change that. No one can change it but I am going to make an effort to pay my debts to the world."

He still did not understand. "Nevertheless, you still love me?" he asked sadly.

"Yes. But it's not enough anymore. You are not my everything anymore. I thought being with you would somehow stop time but it hasn't. What I need from the world has changed because these unstoppable circumstances have changed me. I have things I need to do in my life to assuage this guilt. To be a better person."

He felt sad and lost, something he wasn't used to. "Why not do those things with me though? If you love me, that's enough for me."

She ran her fingers across his cold, perfect face. "I appreciate that. Thank you so much. I have never deserved your love. This is my debt though. Repaying it is something I want to do alone because I need to figure out if I can do things on my own the way other people have done things for me. Please don't make this any harder than it is."

He was abruptly angry and played his trump card, "What was the point of Jacob saving you from drowning if you're going to throw your life away like this?"

She sat up in bed, looked at him and, ignoring the reference to her former best friend she asked, "What part of this do you consider to be 'throwing away'?"

He told her didn't think it was a good school and then asked "Why Spokane anyway?"

She didn't buy his deflection but played the game anyway. "Because it's as far away as I can go and still be in Washington. And it's not the school you think is a waste is it?"

He did not answer immediately. Eventually he said, "No. You're such a danger magnet. Jacob will worry about you without anyone to protect you."

Then she laughed at him, a wild, crazy sound. "He will understand."

She knew he'd actually been referring to himself and that he'd be sick with worry about her. For once in her life though, she was weary of worries.

"Should I go now?" It was three in the morning and thundering outside; he felt suddenly unwelcome in her bedroom.

"I – I guess so."

They stood together near the window hugging. He tried to make the parting easy, letting her know he grudgingly endorsed her choice with offers of money, laptops and cell phones. She shook her head at everything. There were no tears. He asked why not.

"I've been crying for the last two months. I'm tired of it."

Then he was desperate. "Is this it? Are we over? Will I see you again?"

"Yes, yes and I don't know," she told him. She was withdrawing into herself to cope. Old habits died hard.

She wrote a short note that said where she was going to school, alone. She included her new address with an 'in case you wanted to stay in touch but I understand if you don't.' She signed it simply _thank you_.

She dropped it in her old best friend's mail box on her last visit to La Push while she was making her final delivery of flowers to the grave and cookies to the doorstep before driving east.

Then she was gone, leaving her father with strict instructions as to where to leave a box of cookies from the freezer every month until she came back.

_A/N – So… Is life without Eddie possible? Stay tuned. Reba's been around forever: in her 30+ year recording career I think she's had about 35 number singles. She had a TV show for a while in the early naughties too. This is from her 26__th__ and most recent studio album _All the Women I Am_, the title track to which, incidentally, is quite lyrically cool too._

* * *

><p><strong>|XL – No Pain No Gain| |Bella|<br>**Artist: Sara Evans  
>Song: Life Without Losing (Evans, Barry Dean, Andrew Dorff, Luke Laird © 2009)<p>

_I'd like to get through a day without crying  
>Night without asking why I can't stop thinking about you<br>Get through a song without thinking  
>I'm drowning, I'm sinking<br>Wondering how I'm ever gonna get through  
>But my feet just keep moving<br>And I know the truth is  
>Nobody get through life without losing<em>

_You said you love me but you went away_  
><em>Now I convinced myself it will be okay<em>  
><em>But I don't know<em>  
><em>Sometimes I think that I'm doing better<em>  
><em>Then the night shows up and it drags on forever<em>  
><em>And the Devil tells me we'll never be together<em>

I curled into a ball on the dorm room bed under the old quilt from home. Breathing was hard now that I had nothing else to distract me from the pain in my chest.

The whole time I'd been driving eastward (all nine and a half hours including pit stops) I'd forced myself to concentrate on the road ahead, the sound of the truck and my eventual destination so I couldn't think of anything else. Once I'd arrived on campus and found my residence, I'd lugged my few boxes of possessions up a couple of flights of stairs, along a hall and into my room. Unpacking hadn't taken long so I'd called Charlie to kill more time and let him know I was ok. Ok was a relative term. I wasn't ok but at least the truck and I made it here.

Never the conversationalist, talking to Charlie hadn't taken nearly long enough. Now it was only 7pm, I had nothing to do and I was alone. My worst nightmare.

Lying in bed somewhere between hysteria and catatonic, I truly felt like Swiss cheese.

The patches I'd glued over the hole caused by Edward's departure last year had disintegrated yet I was the one who'd forced him away this time. Did that make me a martyr? Half of me wondered if I'd run from Edward (unlike a year ago, I could at least say his name) so that he couldn't leave me again. The other half knew I'd done it because there was no other way to escape the ever-spiralling results of that January day when I'd first seen him in the cafeteria of Forks High.

My mind and body still desperately craved Edward's presence. My conscience was a traitor though. Somewhere in between Jake telling me he'd rather me dead than a vampire and Seth dying, it had woken up and prevented me from continuing on the path of which I'd once been so sure. It was almost like an out of body experience – in the last week I'd said and done things I couldn't even recognise as my own words or actions.

Nevertheless, here I was. Alone. No boyfriend, no friends, no nothing except four years of college ahead of me. It was the aloneness that reminded me of Jake and redoubled the Swiss cheese feeling. Oddly, it was his name I mentally stumbled over now.

There was no Jake to hold me together this time around. My best friend, who'd done everything imaginable for me, hated me for the future I'd wanted. The future my mind and body still wanted but that my conscience made me abandon - according to it, I had obligations in this life that didn't mesh with the concept of immortality.

Worse than leaving on bad terms with Jake was how his absence in my life felt like another divot had been punched through my chest. I could only hope that my cowardly written apology and explanation would be enough to hold our friendship together and for Jake to see fit to eventually forgive me. I was scared though. It felt like I was feebly attempting to Scotch tape the Grand Canyon back together: like I couldn't possibly succeed in bridging the current gap between Jake and I.

I burrowed deeper into bed and tried not to hyperventilate. It was nearly impossible because I only had two lungs but there were three punctures in my body. If the wound from Edward festered and the one from Jake throbbed, then the one belonging to Seth Clearwater was haemorrhaging. All I could do about it was stay my course here and hope that would be enough to staunch the flow and ultimately bring me some peace.

Somehow I survived that excruciatingly painful first night in Cheney.

In the days that followed I managed to register for all my classes and avoid most of the orientation week activities. The latter was accomplished by discovering the joy of driving around aimlessly in my truck. Once I'd bought some text books life was more bearable – I could get a head start on reading.

I came home after the first day of classes to discover the other bed in my room was occupied. Not by a person but rather by laundry baskets full of what could only be described as stuff.

"Hi, I'm Luci," came a voice from the bathroom. It was followed out by its owner, a short curvy girl with golden skin, a tangle of auburn curls and khaki green eyes.

"It's Luci with an 'i', short for Lucinda but if you ever call me that I'll sic a pack of rabid squirrels on you!"

For the first time in I couldn't remember how long I found myself laughing.

"Bella," I replied. "Short for Isabella. But if you ever call me that I'll sic a pack of ravenous wolves on you!"

As I made the threat, the smile slid off my face. Those wolves weren't my friends anymore. Inwardly berating myself for causing all three wounds to sting at once, I sat down on the bed with a deflated thump. Luci continued crashing around the room attempting to put her things away.

"I'm late moving in cuz my family and I just got back from finishing the ski season in the Australian Alps," she offered by way of conversation.

"Ah. Was it nice?" I watched Luci's progress from her piles of clothes to her books to her CD collection and back again. She seemed like the kind of person who couldn't concentrate on one thing long enough to finish it so she did everything at once with no sequence. Her rapid movements reminded me of Renee and someone else I couldn't put my finger on.

"Yeah. Perisher's ok. Jindabyne's not bad. Overall the runs are nothing like what we've got here but the change of scenery's good and the Aussies are a blast."

I had no reply so only nodded dumbly, feeling stupid for not being able to think of something to ask this world traveller who was now my roommate. My brain was too used to idling in neutral to numb the pain. Dimly, I realised this was a habit I'd probably have to break if I wanted to survive college.

Picking at a loose thread on my quilt I looked up and caught Luci staring at me from beside her desk where she was haphazardly balancing text books and her laptop. I felt like prey caught in a hunter's gunsight. She seemed to be analysing me and cataloguing everything I wasn't saying for some future reference.

I realised this feeling of scrutiny was eerily familiar and of whom Luci's reminded me: the only other time I'd felt so pursued, vulnerable and exposed was when Victoria had pinned me in her gaze. With her mass of frizzing reddish curls and watchful eyes, Luci could have been Victoria's younger, less sinister and more human sister.

_A/N – What's a little fanfic without both a cliffy and a stab at an OC? :) _


	13. Section 13: Drabbles XLI to XLIII

I remain comment-less. Honestly, I'm perfectly healthy! I guess I wrote enough in these three "drabbles" to nearly write myself out of steam! (Very loose use of the word drabble here, one is just over 3500 words. Meh.) As always, I own not the characters nor the songs.

* * *

><p><strong>|XLI – Life Goes On| |Jake|<br>**Artist: Toby Keith  
>Song: Somewhere Else (Keith, Bobby Pinson © 2010)<p>

_And I don't know where you might be  
>Wherever it is, it will be without me<br>I keep thinkin' I'll come home  
>One day and find you<em>

_Long as I got that front porch light_  
><em>Shinin' like a beacon in the night<em>  
><em>I know I can make it home all by myself<em>  
><em>'Cause if you don't know where you're goin'<em>  
><em>You might end up somewhere else<em>

_Girl, I don't know where you might be_  
><em>Wherever it is, it will be without me<em>  
><em>Keep thinkin' I'll come home<em>  
><em>One day and find you<em>

Not having to run patrols overtime made life a hell of a lot easier – Sam even got a job at McClanahan Lumber south of Forks. I survived the first half of my junior year. Thanksgiving came and went because we didn't celebrate it and Christmas was looming.

Not having a personal tutor made school a hell of a lot harder. Between that and the fact that I basically hadn't learned anything during the last three months of tenth grade, I was pretty busy catching up. Rachel helped out though. It turned out that despite humping Paul all the time, she was pretty damned smart.

Life was ok. Actually, to be honest, it was boring as bat-shit but I tried not to raise that issue too often because no one else really agreed with me. Everyone seemed to have something to do that no longer involved vampires.

Jared got an apprenticeship through school to work three afternoons a week at the Quillayute Airport. Turned out he was damned smart too and wanted to get into engineering or some crazy crap like that. Kim was proud as punch and still trying to make us eat nauseating vegetarian dishes.

Paul, when he wasn't humping my sister or dragging his ass around school like an ape, was working weekends with a construction company. That figured. He always liked pounding people, now he was pounding walls instead.

Quil's cousin on his mom's side of the family had a baby and then ended up in a pickle with the law over dealing dope. Her parents weren't much straighter either so Quil's mom took in her grandniece, little Claire. For some reason Quil took to being a surrogate big brother as easily as he had taken to being a wolf. That sense of responsibility Old Quil had always been trying to drum into us must have finally stuck in Quil's thick skull because he spent a shitload of time borrowing my car to pick Claire up from daycare when his mom was busy working.

Everyone thought it was pretty damned funny when he forgot Claire's car seat in the Rabbit one day. I got jokes for a month about being a teenage father. I laughed along with them all but something inside me didn't quite feel the humour.

Leah was still a wretched mess. She'd just been on the verge of starting to straighten out her head over Sam when Seth died and it sent her into a tailspin. Oddly enough, she didn't hate Sam more because of what happened to Seth. She just hated the whole world except her parents and occasionally me. I ran patrols with her because it made sense: we could deal with each other's shit. Other than that, she avoided pack gatherings and the only time we saw her was either when she drove Harry to his medical appointments or walked with him on beach. Sue said she was developing an interest in physiotherapy and was determined to fix Harry. Knowing how stubborn Leah was, I suspected Harry might just outlive us all if Leah was enforcing his physio regime.

As well as trying to turn me into a scholar and running the rez's counselling program, Rachel had convinced Emily to enrol in some college courses. Apparently Embry put the bug in Rach's ear and they conspired until Emily was all set up studying hospitality and tourism part time in Port Angeles. We didn't complain because it meant Emily tried new recipes on us. The trade-off was mandatory admiration of her place settings and answering endless surveys about what would attract people to the Olympic Peninsula. Sam's response that there was now "a complete lack of leeches" got him a smack with a rolling pin for his efforts.

Hanging out with Sam and Emily was still fun but it was somehow different these days. Without the pressure of a constant life-or-death situation they seemed like any other young, engaged couple: working, saving money and trying to get somewhere in life. But it wasn't only that. There was something about being around them that reminded me what was missing in my life – and it definitely wasn't the Cullens! Consequently, I tried not think about it. Or her. My one consolation was that at least she was a-fucking-live. Supposedly. Part of me feared the whole Spokane thing was a ruse but Charlie said he talked to her regularly so it had to be the truth. Like I said, I tried not to think about it too much.

xxx

And so it was that in the middle of all this peace and boring normalness, Embry showed up at my garage one grey December day.

"Feels like snow," he said without any introduction.

I pulled my head out of a dirt bike I was tinkering with – I'd learned enough from the first two I'd rebuilt back at the beginning of the year that I'd decided it was possible to fix bikes and make a little cash at the same time. It was my personal idea of heaven: money for mechanical skills.

"Does it? I can't tell. How can you tell? You sick or something?"

"I can't tell either. We don't get sick, you doofus. Well, except you being lovesick. The old ladies in the store were talking about the weather and looking at me funny cuz I was only wearing a t-shirt."

"Probably perving on you, Call. You likely made their day!" I grinned at the idea.

He took a bag out of his pocket and ripped it open. "Whatever, Black," he said around some of whatever he was stuffing in his mouth. "At least _someone_ is perving on me, because, unlike you, I get out and about and don't hide myself away in a shed all the time."

I ignored him, crossed the garage to where he was standing, and stuck my hand out. "Gimme one."

"You don't even know what it is."

"It's food. Gimme some. I've shared with you often enough."

"True." Embry stuck a few sticks of black liquorice in my hand. Unlucky for me it was one of the few kinds of candy I didn't like but, having demanded it, I'd eat it. Besides, other than lima beans and turnips, there wasn't much I wouldn't eat.

I choked it down and Embry laughed at me. "See," he said, "You should find out before you insist."

"I dunno how you eat that shit," I told him, grabbing a can of soda from under the workbench to wash the taste out of my mouth. I chucked him one too. "My dad is the only other person I know who likes it."

"I know," Embry said smugly. "He started me on it."

"It's probably what gave him diabetes in the first place," I joked. "Billy Black: brought down by black liquorice. Maybe I'll get him some for Christmas as a treat."

Embry chugged his drink. "If you're gonna get him something he shouldn't really eat, you might as well go the whole hog and get him a box of liquorice allsorts, they're his favourite," he said burping.

I felt myself giving him a funny look. "How'd you know that?" I was puzzled by Embry's sudden intimate knowledge of my old man's eating habits.

"Let's just say that since Sam, Paul and Jared are screwing their women like bunnies, Colin and Brady are dating anything that moves, Quil's in the running for step-brother of the year, and you and Leah are busy pity-partying, there ain't much for me to do so sometimes I hang out with your dad."

"Fair enough but watch what you say about my sister!" I told him and chucked my pop can into the garbage while collapsing onto the bench seat. "Christmas, eh? How'd that happen?"

"Well Jacob, according to the Gregorian calendar, we start the year in a month called January and eventually twelve months later we find ourselves in a month called December which is when the Christian types believe Jesus was born so they celebrate in his honour." Embry gave me a smirk and sunk into the seat next to me.

I couldn't help but laugh at him. "Smart ass. You pay way too much attention in history class. Besides, you know what I meant."

"Hey," Embry said, propping his feet up on a milk crate full of spare parts, "I like history. It's good to know where you come from. But yeah, for a while there it didn't look like we'd survive the summer did it?"

"Need I remind you that not all of us did?" I asked. No one had taken Seth's death lightly but I refused to let him be forgotten.

Embry looked out the door as if he expected to see Seth arriving and said "Aw shit, man. I'm sorry." I knew he wasn't apologising to me.

There was a silence and then Embry offered me another piece of liquorice. I took it to be a peace offering and ate it with good grace.

"Bella coming home for Christmas?" he asked casually, putting the last stick of candy in his mouth.

"Nah," I told him, picking a chunk of liquorice out of my teeth. "Charlie said when we were over at his place for the NFL Thanksgiving Classic that she was staying with a friend to save some money. Besides, I dunno how many times her truck can make that trip."

"Huh. That sucks, buddy. I know you were looking forward to seeing her so you could apologise for being a jerk before she left." Embry threw his trash out and stared squarely at me.

I picked up a carburettor so I'd have somewhere else to look. Turning one of the screw plugs, I nodded. "Yeah. I still think she kinda deserved that but now I'm just glad she's alive, wherever she is and whatever she's doing."

"Aww come on Black, you can't bullshit me. Even without being inside your head I know you miss her like hell and you've mostly forgiven her for the wanting-to-be-a-leech business. You talked to her since she left?"

Unfortunately Embry was right on all counts. I did miss Bella. Sure, her retarded desire to become a sparkly sucker'd hit me like fucking freight train but seeing as she hadn't gone through with it, I wasn't angry at her anymore – just worried she'd change her mind again. And I had never been able to bullshit Embry, although I was getting better at blocking my thoughts from him while phased. "I sent her a post card."

"You what?" He was laughing at me now. "We have email nowadays in case you hadn't noticed, grandpa!"

"She only left me her mailing address," I told him grumpily turning the carby over and over.

"You get a reply?" Embry pulled the lump of metal out of my hands and examined it. "Needs a new inlet valve, this one's trashed."

"I know that," I snapped, feeling suddenly shitty. Then I pointed at the wall where a picture featuring the Eastern Washington University campus was pinned. "That was my reply."

"Mind if I -?" Embry asked, reaching for it and setting the carby on the workbench.

"Nope."

He unpinned the postcard and turned it over. I knew what he'd see there. _Thank you. Love Bella._

"'_Love Bella_?'" he asked. I shrugged.

"Why don't you go see her?" Embry suggested.

"Cuz it's like a twelve hour drive and I don't have the money for the gas." That sounded super lame, even to me. I couldn't really explain to Embry what was holding me back. Leah said it was fear of knowing the truth. There was a fair chance she was right but I wasn't going to admit that now either.

Embry mercifully ignored my pathetic excuse. "Well, for starters, it's only eight hours." I scowled at him; he was being way too smart for his own good.

"What?" he shot back, "I pay attention in geography too, ya know! Even if you are a wolf and able to get there without a car, I'll still offer to lend you the money but I know that's not the problem."

I said nothing and stared at the grease-stained cement floor in front of me.

Embry tried again. "You don't want to see her in case you find out something you don't want to know, right?"

"You were always way too good at this headshrink shit, Call," I grumbled at him, getting off the couch and going back to the dirt bike.

"I know. I'm taking senior psychology next semester." He sounded a little too pleased with himself.

"You dork! Why don't you get yourself a giant pair of those nerd glasses while you're at it?" I made fun of him while tackling a seized bolt on the bike's frame.

"I might just do that, Jake. I hear the ladies dig smart men. Seriously though dude, stop trying to change the subject. Go see her and reassure yourself she's still human. You don't have to talk to her. Just make sure she's ok, if that's all you want to know."

Embry walked up behind me and leaned over my shoulder to put a hand on the end of the wrench I was hauling on. With his extra weight, the bolt came loose.

"Thanks, bro. But wouldn't that be all creepy and stalkerish? I hear the ladies don't dig that."

"Well then go there to hand-deliver that damned present you've been keeping for her since graduation. That's a non-stalkerish excuse to visit seeing as she's not coming back for Christmas."

I guess I wasn't as great at blocking out my thoughts as I'd thought.

"Maybe," I sighed. "I could go next weekend. Only to leave her present though. I don't want her to think I'm checking up on her. That's something the dead douche-wad would do. Could you cover my shift for me?"

Embry looked at me with one eyebrow higher than the other. "Is the Pope Catholic? Need you ask? Of course I will if it'll cheer your sorry ass up."

"Thanks dude. I owe you."

"Well, it _is _Christmas in about three point two weeks, so I'm sure you can find a way of paying me back," he smirked. "Is the old man inside? I might go say hey before I head home."

"Yeah, he's probably watching _Days of Our Lives_ or something. I swear he's addicted to it."

"Ah. Now I see where you get your attraction to melodramatic chicks from, Jake!"

I threw a wrench at Embry and he ducked out of the garage laughing.

xxx

I spent a long time studying the map and eventually decide to cut through the bottom part of Olympic National Park to avoid Seattle and Tacoma. Heading south of Olympia was a less direct route but it was also less populated. I could make up any lost time by cutting across country in central Washington.

Sam didn't complain about me going – ever since we'd destroyed the redhead he'd taken to letting me make my own decisions. Dad only nodded when I told him where I was headed and said "Run safe, son. See you tomorrow."

And so it was that in the middle of a chilly December night, I strapped my clothes and the small bag containing Bella's present to my ankle and hit the trails.

Embry might have thought it was an eight hour drive across the state to EWU but I discovered I could run it in five. The terrain became unfamiliar out past Olympia and I thought it would have been harder to keep my bearings, but somehow it got easier.

Around 7.30am I phased just west of Cheney and jogged through town hoping I looked like a local football-playing college student out for a run. It wasn't hard to find the campus and I soon spotted Bella's truck in a parking lot. I thought about leaving her present in it but decided she might be a little weirded out by that. Instead, I took a lungful of air, and was rewarded by her very human scent, before I moved on.

In the end, I took a risk and went up to the reception desk in her residential hall. I asked the sleepy-looking dude on duty if he could take a parcel for a resident and then had to sign about fifty sheets saying I wasn't leaving a bomb or anthrax. I handed over the gift and watched as he looked at the name.

"Oh, Bella Swan, eh?" he said smiling.

"I guess so," I answered, deciding to play dumb. "I'm just the messenger."

He looked at me funny and I decided to bail while my luck held. I didn't want to know how or if he knew her.

"Well, I've got plenty more deliveries to make today, so uh, I'd better run. You have a good day now," I told him as I ducked out the door.

I took my time heading home. It wasn't like I often had the chance to take a tour of anywhere, even if it was just Washington. I looked around as much as I could, knowing the rest of the pack would be interested in seeing the sights too.

By the time I reached the outskirts of Olympia it was after 2pm, pouring rain, I was starving to death and sick of avoiding suburbia. I phased in Millersylvania State Park and realised my clothes were already drenched but there wasn't a hell of a lot I could do about it. Walking into the nearest burger joint half an hour later steaming like a racehorse raised a few eyebrows so I cracked a joke about picking a bad day to go for a run.

A full belly improved my mood enough that I decided there'd be no better time to do a little Christmas shopping. Wolf or not, malls scared the shit out of me so I made short work of it. Luckily, the same store had calendars of ancient Rome and fancy tin boxes of liquorice so I had Embry's and part of dad's presents covered in one shot. I ended up grabbing a bunch of books for the girls and videos for the rest of the guys and thought I was done until I saw a carved sandstone wolf the exact colour of Seth. It blew my budget to shit but I figured the pack could all chip in and we'd give it to Harry and Sue.

I was stuck on two legs for the rest of the trip home because of all the crap I'd bought. Someone needed to invent saddlebags for wolves but then again, maybe the market wasn't big enough.

I stumbled into the garage after 6pm and dumped everything. Somehow, it'd taken twice as long to get home as it had to get to Cheney. It wasn't that I didn't want to be back in La Push, it was just that heading west hadn't been filled with the same urgency as the morning's eastward trip.

xxx

Christmas was the same as always. Except for the little differences this year.

Dad called Charlie first thing and then we opened presents, pigged out on French toast and drank coffee just like always. Except Paul and Rachel were there too. Later, we ate ourselves stupid at the annual Black/Clearwater diner just like always. Except Seth wasn't around to read the stupid jokes from the Christmas crackers.

Sue cried when she and Harry opened the pack's gift and miraculously Leah actually stuck around for dinner. She kept glancing at the sandstone wolf which held pride of place in the centre of the table beside the turkey.

After dinner while everyone else snoozed through their food comas, Leah and I snuck out and took a walk to the cemetery. We didn't speak on the way there or back but we left holly on my mom's and Seth's graves.

In the couple of days between Christmas and New Years when the world actually functioned and we got mail, another postcard arrived. It was stamped Coeur d'Alene in Idaho, so I guessed that Bella had sent it from her friend's place. On the back she'd written _It's beautiful. Thank you. For everything. Love Bella_

I wasn't disappointed, she hadn't rejected my gift, but something inside of me wanted more. I wanted to know about her, how she was, her life, what she was doing - . And then I stopped myself because I realised I sounded like the controlling, manipulative bloodsucker.

That afternoon I walked to the store and bought a postcard of a wolf in the national park (Embry was right, the old ladies sitting behind the cash registered did stare). It took me way too long to figure out what to write on it. In the end I settled for _You're welcome._ I added _I miss you_ but then erased it, not wanting to push my luck. If she looked carefully, she'd still be able to see the pencil marks. I signed it and stuffed it in the mail before I could change my mind.

_A/N – Sorry that was so ridiculously long. I just get stuck in Jake's head and never wanna come out! And yeah, Embry, eh? Just cuz SMeyer never bothered to consider whether or not a teenage boy would want to know who his father was doesn't mean I feel the same way._

* * *

><p><strong>|XLIII – College (Drinking) Fund| |Bella &amp; Luci|<br>**Artist: Joe Nichols  
>Song: Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off (Gary Hannan, John Wiggins © 2005)<p>

_She'll start with kickin' out of her shoes  
>Loose an earring in her drink<br>Leave her jacket in the bathroom stall  
>Drop a contact down the sink<em>

_Them pantyhose aint gonna last too long_  
><em>If the DJ puts Bon Jovi on<em>  
><em>She might come home in a table cloth<em>  
><em>Ya tequila makes her clothes fall off<em>

"Come on Bella, you've gotta come to at least one big social event this year. You skipped the Thanksgiving and the Christmas parties. You can't miss the Valentine's Day one too." Luci was trying to cajole her roommate while taming her hair in front of a mirror with little success on either count.

"Technically I was there," Bella defended herself from the depths of her Social Justice text book.

Luci flounced over and slammed the book shut. Bella looked suitably affronted. The two roommates had a good but occasionally uneasy friendship. This was one of the uneasy moments.

Glaring at Bella, Luci tried again. "Working as the campus serving wench really doesn't count as party attendance. I have no idea why you even took that job in the first place, Bella. You hate talking to strangers, especially drunk ones. And it stops you from partying. Oh hell, Swan, that's not why you're doing it, is it?"

Bella leaned back in her chair and smiled at the other girl. "Geez Luce, you give me too much credit for being clever! Anyway, as I've told you many times, the pay's good and I like people-watching. Besides, I needed to do something out of my comfort zone."

"Out of your comfort zone?" Luci repeated incredulously as she returned to preening in the mirror. "That's like saying you went to Mars because you fancied a change of scenery."

Bella gave one of her rare laughs as she said "Yeah, I'd probably like Mars, it'd be warm." Then the smile fell off her face rapidly and she looked down at the stacks of notes on her desk.

Luci watched her in the mirror. "You're doing it again."

"What? Doing what?" Bella asked as she hunted for a pen and flipped her textbook open again.

Giving up on her hair, Luci came over and sat on Bella's bed. "That thing we've talked about where you get all sad and withdrawn in the blink of an eye. There will be other boys you know, plenty of fish in the sea and all that. Which is a perfect reason why you should come to the Valentine's Day party."

Bella turned the bracelet on her wrist and fingered the wooden charm. There might be more fish in the sea, but there was only one wolf in the woods and she missed him. Valentine's Day was all tangled up in her mind with his voice talking about a lifetime of servitude. Funny how that in itself seemed a lifetime ago yet here she was a year later, alive despite everything.

"I'll think about it," was Bella's glum response. "But in the meantime, I really do need to study for this test. Wear your hair down then you can always put it up later when it starts annoying you."

Lucy grinned and reached to pat Bella's shoulder. "That's not a 'no' so I'm holding you to it! Thanks for the hair advice, it's not like he'll notice anyway."

"Who is he?" Bella couldn't keep up with Luci's never-ending steam of dates.

"Marcus, that third year guy who works on the front desk sometimes." Luci shrugged out of her trademark green hoodie and into a top pattered with sequin-eyed skulls. Her fashion sense made Bella's head spin.

"Oh, hmm," Bella replied half-heartedly, already engrossed in studying again. "No idea who he is."

"Which is precisely why he's not going to care what I look like," Luci replied, squinting into the mirror once more while she did her mascara.

Bella did glance up this time. More so than her choice of clothes, Luci's logic confounded Bella nearly to the point of exasperation.

"What?"

"He's only got eyes for you, and I think he's pretty cut that you don't acknowledge his existence, ergo he won't give a shit what I look like, honey," Luci finished with a wink.

Bella sighed and flipped another page. She was used to Luci trying to convince her half the males on campus were after her. As always, she ignored it. "Why go out with him then?"

"A date's a date. Dunno what time I'll be back but I'll try not to wake you."

"Ok, have fun then," Bella responded automatically.

Luci sauntered out the door with a laugh. "Will do, mom!"

Bella shook her head and spent the next hour and a half writing a draft essays about the prejudices faced by visible minorities in white communities. The slam of the dormroom door surprised her, as did Luci marching back in wearing a frown.

"Have you even moved since I left, Swan?" Luci demanded flopping down on her bed face first and fully clothed.

Bella looked guilty and closed her books. "How was it?"

A muffled "Awful. I was right: all he wanted to do was talk about you," came from Luci's direction.

Standing, stretching and then walking over to her roommate's bed where she sat down on the floor beside it, Bella said, "Aw, I'm sorry Luce. The guy's probably a creep anyway so you're not missing much."

Luci grunted into her pillow. "I don't get it. They all love you so much and yet you're blind to them. Marcus was even crapping on jealously about the guy who delivered that bracelet for you at Christmas time."

Bella stiffened. Luci rolled over and eyed her suspiciously. "Who was that anyway? You never told me. Not the ex-boyfriend, surely?"

"No. The ex best friend," Bella answered reluctantly. She'd told Luci just enough about the previous summer's Jake and Edward fiasco to explain why she was still sometimes overcome with an otherwise inexplicable sadness.

"But you wear the bracelet all the time. How does the _ex_ best friend part fit with that? Why would you wear it if you guys hate each other now?" Luci demanded, sitting up and reaching for Bella's arm.

"Peace offering. At least I think." Bella said, retrieving her arm and bracelet from Luci's grasp. "We don't hate each other either. It was just, well, some nonsense and we were both, dumb, I guess, about it."

Luci was excited now, bouncing on her bed, bad date forgotten. "Hang on a minute here Swan, you're so damned full of mystery. Ex best friend boy made you a wolf bracelet. Does that mean he's the same as penpal boy who sends you those wolf postcards?"

"Glad to see poking around in my life makes you happy, Smythe," Bella replied sarcastically. "And yes, he's the same person. Case closed."

"Ok, ok, Secret Swan, case closed!"

Bella stood up and smiled at Luci who was kicking off her shoes, trying put on her pyjama top and plug in her iPod at the same time.

Making a bedtime cup of tea, Bella tossed over her shoulder, "I was gonna say I thought you needed cheering up so I'd agree to go to that Valentine's party with you, if you wanted. But obviously that doesn't matter now because you're all chipper again."

"What? Ouch, stupid earrings. Wait, what, you're coming?" came Luci's response from inside her shirt. "I should get sad more often if it means you'll venture out into the big, bad world!"

Bella stirred the tea slowly, thinking about what she'd learned from nearly losing Jake completely from her life and how much she still missed him.

"You're probably right, I do need to socialise more, so yeah, I'll come. But on three conditions: one, you don't force me to drink seeing as we're not twenty-one. Two, you don't abandon me because you've found a guy. And three, you stop those damned recordings."

Luci just smirked as she walked past on her way to the bathroom.

"What?" Bella wanted to know, getting into bed with her tea and a book.

Luci was still smirking when she walked back out of the bathroom. "You agreed to it in the first place, missy."

Bella found she couldn't argue with that because, after all, she _had_ agreed Luci could record the screams from her nightmares. It was in aid of an installation art piece called _Swan Song _Luci was working on for her sculpture class. As embarrassing as it was, Bella was just glad she'd been assigned a roommate who could put up with her nocturnal weirdness.

"Yeah, yeah. Ok. Well, two conditions then?"

"Nah, it's ok. I've got all the terrified-person-being-killed noises I'll ever need. Besides, you hardly ever do it anymore anyway."

"Yay for me, I'm nearly normal," Bella joked from her bed.

Leaning on the bathroom door, Luci looked at her squarely for some time. "Normal _is _relative but I'm still not sure I'd use that word on you just yet. I'll wait until after the party and then hand down my verdict."

xxx

A week later, Bella regretted her decision. She was standing, on the wrong side of the bar, in a dark, smoky room that throbbed with people and loud music. Luci had broken condition two, although not because of a guy. She'd left Bella talking to a bunch of science nerds to go in search of alcohol.

As harmless as the geek crew were, Bella was still rattled by their eagerness to talk to her and consequently decided to break condition one on Luci's return.

Seeing her friend's coppery head bobbing through the crowd, Bella made a break for it and met Luci in the middle of the of the dance floor.

"Gimme that," she said, snatching a glass from Luci's hand and tossed it back with a slight sputter.

"Aren't you even going to see what it is? Nope, I guess not!" Luci tried to ask and then laughed at the look on her friend's face as she swallowed the drink.

Wiping her mouth with the back of one hand, Bella grabbed Luci's arm with her other and dragged the redhead towards the bar. "I don't care what it was," she said firmly, "We just need more of it if I'm going to survive tonight."

Reaching the bar after a long wait in line, Luci ordered four tequilas with Sprite. Bella's eyebrows nearly flew off her head when she realised what she'd drunk. She'd seen girls on tequila before: the results were never pretty. Grant, the bartender, winked at Bella as he handed Luci her change.

"C'mon," Luci called to Bella, who seemed frozen and undecided in front of the bar. Luci she stuffed the change into the pocket of her impossibly tight jeans and carried their four drinks to a table in the corner. "Let's scope out the talent here tonight."

Bella startled then darted after her friend. "Let's what? And how come you didn't get ID'd? Grant ought to know you're not of age."

"Let's just say he owes me a few favours. And how can someone as brainy as you not know what 'talent scoping' means?" Luci replied as she took her first sip. "Ah, that's damned fine, he gave us the good stuff, the Patrón."

"Don't care what it is along as it'll make it easier for me to deal with all these people," Bella grumbled.

Luci clinked her glass against Bella's and said with a sly look on her face, "Thought you liked people-watching, Swan? Which is precisely what talent scoping is – watching the boys and deciding which ones are worth pursuing."

Bella looked panicked: her eyes widened and her drink stopped half way to her mouth. "Pursuing?"

"Relax!" Luci chuckled. "It can be hypothetic pursuit if you want. I've always been curious about your taste in men. Let's find who you think is hot - that muscled blonde guy in the blue?"

Peering around Luci, Bella shook her head. "Too short."

"Ok, you like tall?" Luci asked as Bella nodded a reply.

Swishing her head discretely to the left, Luci indicated to a dark haired guy leaning against the wall talking to a group of his friends. "How about him?"

"Too skinny."

Luci laughed again. "Why am I not surprised that you're going to be hard to please? Your turn then."

Leaning back in her chair Bella surveyed the room. A drink and a half down, she unexpectedly found herself enjoying Luci's game.

"He's probably not bad, that guy wearing the green shirt," Bella told Luci who looked around to see a broad back.

"First rule of the game Bella, no picking unless you've seen their face. He's turning around now, wait for it, wait for it – oh, fail! He's got buck teeth! Hang on, don't tell me you like that? Rabbit boys?"

Bella blanched, nearly choked on her drink and tried to keep her composure by shaking her head. There was one boy with a VW Rabbit... but she couldn't think about that now.

"Right, amateur's mistake. You get another turn," Luci said generously.

Bravely, Bella viewed the room again and although it was too dark to see much, she genuinely tried to examine each face closely. Did they seem friendly, interesting, inviting? Finally she pointed out someone of average build and height with light brown hair to Luci.

"Ah, the compromise vote," Luci commented sagely. "That's Mark, nice guy. Wait here, I'll go get him."

Before Bella could say anything, Luci had left and returned towing an amused Mark behind her.

As Luci introduced them, Bella downed the last of her second drink and started on her third. Six stilted minutes of conversation later, Mark grabbed Bella's hand and dragged her out on to the dance floor. Luci followed and the three joined a group of Luci's friends from the fine arts program.

"For someone who can't dance, you sure are dancing," Mark yelled at Bella over the music.

She smiled back at him and raised her empty glass. "Liquid talent?" she suggested.

xxx

"Luce?" Bella asked as the two girls headed home.

"Yeah?" Luci panted from under Bella's arm. The girl wasn't heavy, just swaying. "Honetly woman, how can five drinks have you this inebriated?"

Bella giggled and swayed some more. "Not shure. Low twollerance?"

"No tolerance, more like it," Luci said as she fumbled with the key to their room.

Once inside, Bella sagged down onto her bed. "Jus wanted ta thank you for thish," she burbled.

"No worries sista, just a minute, I gotta pee," said Luci while making a run for the bathroom. Returning, she found Bella laying on her back, humming tunelessly and playing with her bracelet.

"So, six months in and you survived your first college party, eh?" Luci grinned affectionately at the other girl. Bella was one of the few people for whom she'd give up a night of no-strings attached sex. And while there had been plenty of that on offer grinding up against her on the dance floor, Luci had been true to her word about not abandoning Bella for a guy.

"Firs n las, I think," Bella slurred sleepily.

"Come on, lets get you to the bathroom and then into bed," Luci ordered. Bella meekly complied and was soon tucked in.

Just after the light went out Bella spoke again. "Luce, you don't happen ta be rulated to anyone named Victoria, do ya?"

"Funny you should ask. My Mom had a great aunt Victoria who disappeared when she was in her late twenties a long time ago. Apparently I look like her."

"I know," came Bella's reply across the dark room.

"How? How on earth can you? Were you talking to Mom about it at Christmas or something?"

The sharp shock in Luci's voice awakened Bella's dozing mind. She scrambled for a plausible lie in her drunken state.

"Uh, well, ya know how Dad's a cop? He uh, usta sometimes talk bout the ol unsolved mishing person cases in Washinton. Showed me some ol black n white photos at the shtation once wen I waza kid ta keep me busy." Bella swallowed audibly as she finished her fabrication.

"How long as has this been preying on your mind for, Swan? And why did it take you being pissed to ask me?" Luci replied, smiling into the gloom.

"Well, I, um, I guess she looked, uh, sorta scaree in the pichure so I didn't wana pry," Bella finished lamely.

"You're a weird one, Swan! While we're at it, answer me this: why didn't postcard boy didn't come see you before Christmas if he went to the trouble of hand delivering your present?"

Luci could hear Bella rustling under her blankets across the room. Taking so long to answer that the other girl thought she was asleep, Bella finally said, "We hadn't 'cepted each other's 'pologies then."

"And now?" Luci enquired but Bella was already snoring softly.

_A/N – It's an awful song but it's awfully cute to – and you have to watch the WHOLE video for a good chuckle! I guess I'm biased though: tequila used to be my poison of choice, back when I drank like a fish and swam like one too in my own tears (my clothes never came off though). Anyway kiddies, that's a story for another day so let's just have a laugh at Bella's expense, shall we? Apologies again for this being uber long. Apparently I like being in Bella & Luci's head too. (Wills – here's your cue for the outtake lol!) I think right now Bella is just trying on personalities like that episode of the Simpsons where Lisa tries to fit in._

* * *

><p><strong>|XLIV – Of Flowers and Fortune| |Edward|<br>**Artist: Joe Nichols  
>Song: The Shape I'm In (Rhett Akins, Dallas Davidson, Ben Hayslip © 2009)<p>

_Well I'm gettin' better at barely gettin' by  
>When I look at her picture I don't break down and cry.<br>And all this time on my hands it's gettin' easier to spend  
>Cause I'm doin' alright for the shape I'm in.<br>_…  
><em>Yeah I'm doin' alright,<br>I'm doin' alright,  
>I'm doin' alright for the shape I'm in.<em>

_Alaska_

_There's a wind in this  
>northern country<br>as cold as I am. Its endless gusts  
>are one with my shattered spirit.<em>

_The wind, she is  
>as bitter and as piercing<br>as my sorrow. She knows  
>the meaning of my emptiness.<em>

_Just as the wind can not  
>leave this land<br>so am I bound  
>to this long life of death.<em>

My writing reverie was interrupted. "Edward?"

"Yes Alice," I responded and heard the whisper of stone footsteps on stairs – so unlike the stumbling human ones I'd lov-. But it was no good thinking about that.

"Oh, there you are." My sister's head popped around the doorway of the study as if she was actually surprised to find me and hadn't known all along where I was. She smiled at me and bounced into the room, her movement causing a dust mote to rise up in the weak afternoon sunlight of spring.

"I've got something to show you, come on outside. You've been hiding in here all winter. It's getting boring," Alice wheedled. "And this room is grotty. Esme would be ashamed of you, she didn't raise us to be uncivilised, you know."

I groaned and took an unnecessary deep breath. Why couldn't Alice just let me mope in peace?

"You'd go all papery and wrinkly if we left you sitting here forever," she answered my unspoken thought.

Standing, I tidied my writing papers, put the lids back on my fountain pen and inkwell before I addressed Alice.

"I thought it was _me_ who read minds, not you, you little squirt! And the texture of my skin is the least of my worries."

"Ooh, he jokes. There is life after all!" she shot back at me.

"Poor choice of words, Mrs Whitlock," I sighed to her, any hint of my improved mood suddenly gone.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. It's not hard to know that you want us all to leave you alone but we're not going to. What else is family for?"

I didn't answer so Alice moved towards me and wrapped her little arms around me. We stood like that for a moment or two and then she danced away tugging my hand.

I followed her downstairs and out into the yard – to call it a yard was the understatement of the year. Decade even. Denali National Park backed on to our simple, white A-frame house so we had thousands of acres of wilderness at our disposal.

It did feel good to be outside during the day – I had to admit that Alice was right. Lately I'd taken to hunting at night (my twisted line of thought being that since I was a vampire I might as well act as much like one as I could).

Turning to smile at Alice, I saw she was already jogging off. "Race you!" she challenged, a grin splitting her sparkling face.

"Where to?" I caught up but then she sprinted off, her laugh tinkling back to me. Some race.

After several minutes of running swiftly across the loam and exchanging banter, we slowed as we came over the crest of a hill. In front of us lay a valley tinged with blues and reds. To a human eye, the mixture of colour would have appeared violet but I could pick out each individual dot of colour.

"Wildflowers," Alice said simply. "This is what I wanted to show you. Come on." Once again she was tugging on my arm.

We strode down the steep hill and into the belly of the dell, a delicate scent rising in the air as we walked. Finally, Alice stopped and I followed suit.

"I brought you here because I wanted you to see another kind of beauty and know that it still exists in this world," my sister told me.

"These flowers," she continued, "They live only a short time, yes, but that doesn't diminish their loveliness while they are here. It's only the start of the season now, if we come back in a couple of weeks, the whole taiga will be carpeted."

Alice bent and picked a small blue flower and handed it to me. "Wild native forget-me-not, _Myosotis alpestris_, the state flower of Alaska."

I heard her mind form the words before she said them: "Bella won't forget you, you know. She won't forget you but she felt compelled to go live her life, just like these flowers will flourish and eventually fade. That's humanity."

I nodded, mute and glad someone was finally talking about this with me. In an attempt to soothe my pain, our entire family had avoided mentioning Bella since last September when we'd moved back to Alaska. I knew their hearts were in the right place but it made me feel like my relationship with Bella had never happened.

"Thank you, Alice," I whispered in a choked voice.

We stood for some time amongst the flowers and then began walking home.

Later that night, settled in my now-clean study, I found a fresh notebook and began another poem on a new page.

_Fortunate Flower_

_The blue I loved on you  
>is best suited to this<br>tiny delicate flower._

_Its petals caress me  
>like your skin did<br>and I am  
>so<br>sorry for its picking._

_But the sacrifice of this  
>one bloom is enough<br>and I am  
>so<br>glad it was not you._

_I will think of you  
>every spring in meadows<br>filled with little flowers._

_Although our bonds have ended,  
>forget me not, love of mine.<em>

_A/N – Loam, motes and melodrama… Oh and poetry written with a fountain pen. Whadya reckon? Hehe! I'm not sure Edward would write poetry like a modernist but personally I love the stuff. (See William Carlos William's poems: 'chopped up prose'.) It's the good sh*t!  
><em>_The forget-me-not _is_ the state flower of Alaska and a colleague of mine just came back from a holiday there. Need I say I was jealous? Anyway, I guess Alice got Edward to see that he's doin' alright for the shape he's in so now we really don't need to worry about the vamperoonies anymore! And I have no idea if you can build a house that close to Denali National Park or not. Normally I research stuff fairly extensively, but in the spirit of channelling SMeyer for this drabble, I couldn't force myself to a) be accurate or b) care!  
><em>_Huh – just realised I put 2 Joe Nichols songs in a row. It's not like I'm a massive fan of his or anything (although I do think he's kinda hot). I guess both songs just suited the circumstances. I love the story behind this song – apparently the grandfather of one of the writes (Hayslip) used to say 'I'm ok for the shape I'm in'. Great line! Very cool video too._

_Reviews are nice, people :)_


	14. Section 14: Drabbles XLIV to XLVI

I had a hideous dream last night. Jake was at my mum's place in Canada (no, that wasn't the horrible part!) and somehow he got mangled and then murdered. Basically he was flayed on my patio but I can't remember how. I ended responsible for cleaning up the mess. It wasn't pretty – for some reason I was putting bits of (human) Jake in bags full of wool into a big bin of rice. The rice I can explain because I've been keeping my DSLR camera in rice to try and dry it out after I fell in a river with it on the weekend (epic fail!) but the rest of the dream? Yeah. Dat deres sum krazy effed up shite, doods!

Anyway, unlike the dream, I don't own Twilight or these songs.

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><p><strong>|XLIV – Pulling Beer Not Books| |Bella|<br>**Artist: Jasmine Rae feat. Joe Nichols  
>Song: I'll Try Anything (Amber Dotson, Phil Donnelly © 2009)<p>

_I can't stand the smell of smoke  
>But I bought myself a pack<br>Bummed a light from a stranger  
>Nearly choked from that first drag<br>And I hate the taste of whiskey  
>And this barroom ain't my style<br>But I'll try anything not to hurt for a while _

…

_I'm tired, so tired of crying  
>Tired of reaching for a memory in the middle of a night<br>So sick of pain running through my veins overtaking my whole life  
>I'll try anything not to hurt for a while<em>

Once upon a time there was a girl named Bella who lived in the Town of Forks. She didn't know what was good for her and fell ridiculously in love with a Tame Vampire.

Of course, no one except the Tame Vampire, his family and their mortal enemies (the big-but-not-so-bad Quileute werewolves) knew Bella was in love with anything other than a human boy. Bella's Tame Vampire friends were good but one day they met some Bad Vampires who wanted to drink up all of Bella's very tasty blood. Lucky for Bella, she survived with only a broken leg, a concussion, some cuts and contusions.

Eventually, in a fit of self-righteousness, Bella's vampire left her because he thought she would be safer. Little did he know, Bella was not very good at living her life without him as her Prince Charming.

Bella entered a really bad depression and was Very Sad. She made friends with the big-but-not-so-bad Jacob of the Quileutes, a boy with a personality like sunshine who helped her a lot. To his surprise, Jacob started turning into a supernaturally large werewolf and was bound by duty to protect his people from vampires. After he became a shape-shifter werewolf, Jacob and Bella were not supposed to be friends anymore but somehow they continued their friendship because they cared so much about each other.

Despite this magical friendship, Bella still missed her Charming Prince of a vampire. So that she could hear his voice in her mind, Bella jumped off a cliff and nearly drowned. Lucky for Bella, she survived because Jacob pulled her out of the Angry Waters of the Ocean Pacific.

Bella's Prince Charming vampire returned to her when he discovered she had almost died. All was well again in Bella's little world because the love of her life loved her once more. Bella was even making plans to become a vampire herself. Jacob hated the idea of this and was Very Angry but Bella didn't care.

All was well in Bella's little world save for the fact that one of the Bad Vampires still wanted to drink up all of her very tasty blood.

The big-but-not-so-bad Quileute werewolves killed the Bad Vampire but sadly for the wolves, one of their youngest and sweetest wolf-boys lost his life in the battle against the Bad Vampire.

When Bella found out how this boy sacrificed his life for her, she felt Very Guilty and Very Sad again. She came to see that death was no joke and that to become a vampire, she would have to die. Bella saw how Very Sad the wolf-boy's friends and family were because they lost him. As much as she loved her Prince Charming vampire, Bella decided she could not choose to die and leave behind her own friends and family.

Thus, instead of running away to the far-off Land of Dartmouth with her Prince Charming, Bella turned her back on the World of the Supernatural. Wanting to live the simple life of a peasant student-girl, Bella moved to the not-so-far-off Land of Eastern Washington University where she began to fulfil her new dream of learning how to help Other People.

Whilst in this wondrous new world, Bella met another peasant student-girl named Luci and the two became fast friends as well as sharers-of-a-room. Bella studied hard and worked hard like a good little student-girl and soon found one semester of her learning was finished.

Just before the Holiday of Christ's Most Excellent Birth, Bella received from her old friend, the big-but-not-so-bad Jacob, a beautiful and tiny wolf charm on a bracelet. Not only did Jacob carve the wolf with his own two hands, he also journeyed on his own two (or possibly four) feet to the Land of Eastern Washington University to deliver the bracelet. Bella took this to mean he was no longer Very Angry with her and decided she missed Jacob of the Quileutes. Indeed, Bella missed Jacob a lot but was still uncertain of herself and continued to keep her distance.

Because Bella was a peasant student-girl, she hadn't enough pennies (despite learning to become a pourer-of-firewater) to travel back to her old home for the Holiday of Christ's Most Excellent Birth. Instead, Bella journeyed to Luci's home in the Hamlet of Colville Washington where Luci's parents ran an ale house of high repute. To add to her collection of pennies, Bella worked as a pourer-of-firewater over the holiday.

Once back in the Land of Eastern Washington University, Luci and Bella began their second semester of learning. Luci was a brave, outgoing girl who encouraged Bella to experience many new things, including the heinous firewater which Bella usually only poured for others. Lucky for Bella, she survived these new things because she was learning how to save herself as well as help Other People.

One day when the month of April in the year of Two Thousand and Seven was drawing to a close, Bella answered Luci's telephonic device for her. Bella was surprised to discover Luci's mother wished to speak about the matter of firewater-pouring. The chief pourer at the Smythe's ale house was venturing to the very-far-off Land of Terra Australis Incognita and Luci's parents had yet to find a replacement for him.

Bella was most excited to take this summer job and upon completion of their Evil Examinations, she and Luci loaded up Bella's noble Chevrolet steed with their meagre possessions and once again journeyed northward to the Hamlet of Colville. Luci's summertime source of pennies would be teaching the arts of painting, drawing and sculpting to the hamlet's children at Arte Campe.

Bella's esteemed father, Chief Charlie of Forks was greatly disappointed his only daughter would not be returning home for the summer but he understood her need to gather pennies to pay for her learning. Also greatly disappointed by Bella's long absence was Jacob of Quileute. He had been very captivated by the thought of seeing his lovely friend again now that she was no longer enthralled in the world of his mortal enemies, the vampires. Secretly, Jacob of Quileute also thought that Bella was avoiding the Town of Forks because it was the site of her greatest heartbreak.

Although he did not know it, Jacob was correct (Jacob possessed much wisdom beyond his years and was often correct). Bella was definitely glad not to return to Forks because she did not want to think about her Prince Charming. It still hurt her to remember his pale, chiselled features and loving voice. Of course, Bella missed her father, Chief Charlie as well. Indeed, she missed young Jacob too and, by way of mail, she sent him many Cards of the Postal Variety containing scenes of the Hamlet of Colville and surrounds.

Bella did not want to think of the lost wolf-boy either. This presented a problem when Chief Charlie told her there were no more Cookies of the Sympathy Variety to deliver to the wolf-boy's parents. Bella had assumed she would be home to bake many more cookies to augment the supply in Chief Charlie's deep freeze. Instead, Bella wrote a letter to the wolf-boy's father explaining that she still grieved deeply for the family's tragic loss and would never forget the darling young wolf-boy.

Soon Bella had settled into her new job and was enjoying life with the Family Smythe. Patrons of the ale house found the dark-haired girl behind the bar to be a mystery. She seemed much too shy to be a pourer-of-firewater yet she was always polite and quick to tend to their thirsty needs. Sporadically she would engage in friendly conversation, most often with middle-aged men in possession of large moustaches. Rarely, though, did Bella speak openly with the youthful men who frequented the premises.

One such patron was a man named Justin who made his living on the highway by driving large noble steeds of the Mack variety that were commonly seen in Washington heavily burdened with logs. Justin had seen Bella serving firewater many times; in fact, he himself had imbibed much of this firewater, for his life as a driver of Mack steeds left something to be desired. He was unsure exactly what it was he desired (other than a large steed and a large quantity of firewater) but he had an inkling a good woman might go some way towards improving his life.

While this all may sound somewhat crude, it must be noted that Justin was a kind-hearted youth who had a certain degree of coarse charm about him.

Bella had noticed Justin too for he often put many pennies into the Box of Juke Variety and once even offered to teach her the two-step.

On a quiet Tuesday evening Justin entered the ale house as was his customary habit, and, seeing the place was otherwise empty, began talking to Bella. He saw the small wooden charm dangling from her wrist as she polished glasses and suggested it was made from western redcedar.

When Bella acquiesced and inquired about his knowledge of wood, Justin shared that his occupation involved much dealing with timber. After further discussion Bella soon came to realise the young man lead a lonely life and spent many hours alone behind the wheel of his prized log-hauling Mack steed and this resulted in his excessive consumption of firewater. Bella was proud of her diagnoses, this was an important skill if she was to help Other People.

For several weeks, Justin continued bantering with Bella at the ale house whenever he was in the Hamlet of Colville. Having observed this development, both Luci and her father took it upon themselves to warn Bella of Justin's reputation for he was known a Man of the Smooth Talking and Fast Walking Variety.

Bella assured Luci that chatting to Troubled Souls like Justin was part of her dream of learning to help Other People. Bella even told Chief Charlie about her new friend. Much eye-rolling on the part of the Chief ensued, as befriending such waifs and strays was dangerously similar to something Bella's Missing Mother Renee would have done.

Nonetheless, Bella was determined to continue her friendship. One Sunday afternoon on her free day from pouring-of-firewater duties, Bella frequented a local house of victuals with Justin to partake in a pleasant meal. During their repast Justin divulged, in addition to many other sad details of his distressing childhood, that he too had a Missing Mother. Bella found her heart going out to the person in front of her. If truth be told, she discovered for the first time in her life she could do something to help: she could listen. This made Bella Very Happy.

Later in the evening Justin, having discovered Bella was the owner of the noble Chevrolet steed he had oft admired parked in the street, took her for a ride in his own steed, albeit a much larger one. Bella found herself thinking that Jacob of Quileute would enjoy the experience more than she. Then Justin commenced broadcasting Ye Olde Country music from the steed's wireless and, whilst he was singing along and much to her surprise, Bella discovered she too knew the words as the song was an old favourite of Chief Charlie's.

Before the clock struck ten, Bella insisted Justin return her to the Smythe family home in order that she partake in sufficient rest to commence her duties early next morning. Telling her it was the best evening he'd ever had, Justin dropped a Stubbly Kiss on Bella's cheek and promised to call her in a day's time.

Eleven days passed before Bella heard from Justin again. Luci was quietly sympathetic and refrained from uttering I Told You So. On the twelfth day Justin breezed into the ale house as if nothing had happened and ordered his usual firewater from Bella. In the hours that followed he consumed so much of the substance that eventually Mr Smythe forcibly removed him from the premises. Later that night just as she was dropping wearily into bed Bella received a call from Justin. He claimed, amongst all manner of other nonsense, that he missed her. Bella politely fell asleep listening to him jabber drunkenly.

This pattern of enjoyable times (complete with Stubbly Kisses) was interspersed with both drunkenness and Justin's routine disappearances and eventual returns from who knows whence. It carried on for many more weeks and Bella was unsure what to do or how to further help the confusing young man. Sometimes he seemed to want more: he would hold her closely and whisper Nothings of the Sweet Variety in her ear. Other times he was a joking older brother, much like Jacob of Quileute had been to her. Still other times he drowned his lost and misguided soul until Bella wanted to slap him. Once she did. It had no effect. Bella felt herself becoming Very Sad and Very Confused again, just as she had with her Prince Charming vampire.

Meanwhile, back in the Land of La Push, the big-but-not-so-bad Jacob was instinctively concerned about the Justin character of whom he heard the esteemed Chief Charlie make mention. Even Bella's Cards of the Postal Variety to Jacob began to reference the shady steed-driving individual. Jacob, though, possessed of wisdom as he was, realised decided the best course of action was watchful waiting. After all, what good would it be to challenge Justin to a duel when, as a werewolf, Jacob would surely win? Jacob did contemplate paying the other man a visit whilst in wolf form just to pee on the tyres of his cherished Mack steed. However Jacob's superior Samuel sternly advised against such action.

In the end, like many situations in life, there was no orderly conclusion to be had. After one of his extended absences, Justin contacted Bella to tell her he had found Another Woman. Bella was partially relieved for she had never really wanted a Relationship of the Romantic Variety, but also partially distressed for she had spent much time listening to Justin and desired some return on her experimental investment. For the most part Bella was able to pull herself out of her Very Sad mood.

Luci counselled Bella to chalk it up to That Thing Called Life Experience. Bella sadly agreed and swore not to dally with anymore lost causes. She felt that helping Other People was one thing, but doing so at the expense of her own happiness was another. In fact, Bella swore not to dabble with any more causes at all until she had completed her schooling at the Land of Eastern Washington University.

Little did Bella know this would not be the case – but then who among us mere humans can foretell the future?

_A/N – ZOMG this was so much fun to write - I think I crammed nearly as many fairytale stereotypes into this as possible! I thoroughly needed the both the humour and the initial recap because I was starting to forget what the heck had happened in this crazy-ass story! (Author fail?) Somewhere I stopped channelling Cinderbella (I actually knew a horse named that when I worked in New Zealand) and started channelling Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure. I apologise if this caused anyone undue distress. (Author fail #2?) Did anyone get the Australia joke? _

_Justin is based on someone I once knew and loved. Although he drove dump trucks in the coalmines as opposed to log trucks, the poor boy was indeed a Troubled Soul and did pretty much everything I've described here. I'm not exactly worried about him reading this because he was so dyslexic he could barely read at all!  
><em>_Our dear Bella's gone from being self-centred to over-compensating and nearly proved that a little knowledge is a dangerous thing, especially when it comes to social work. For those who might be grumbling about Bella going all OOC, keep in mind she's did all of this crap with Justin for quite a selfish reason – to see if she could and to make herself feel better about not being a people user/abuser.  
><em>_As for the song, I enjoy this version of the video because the height difference between the Joe and Jasmine amuses me. Besides, Joe is pretty damned hot too! (You'd be well within your rights to ask why I'm using yet another Joe Nichols song. I know not the answer. Swear I'm not even that fond of his music, it just keeps happening. I will stop with the JN love now though, promise!)_

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><p><strong>|XLV – Sunday Drive| |Harry &amp; Sue|<br>**Artist: Dean Brody  
>Song: Sunday Drive (Brody © 2010)<p>

_Everybody needs some sun sometimes  
>A little Sunday drive<br>To light up their world of grey  
>So come on darlin' hop up in my truck<br>Lets take her for a run  
>Till we feel a little change<em>

_We'll find a Coke machine_  
><em>Roadside motel for gasoline<em>  
><em>I'll check the oil while you laugh at me<em>  
><em>I get crazy cause I love to see you smile<em>  
><em>What you do to me<em>  
><em>Is still what you did at seventeen<em>  
><em>We made all of those memories<em>  
><em>On a country road back in time<em>  
><em>On a good ol' fashioned Sunday drive<em>

The June sun through the truck window made me feel lazy. My wife sitting next to me on the bench seat made me feel loved.

We weren't going anywhere in particular but since I'd only gotten the doctor's ok to drive again a couple of days go, driving aimlessly felt good. Nearly as good as it had at seventeen when I'd bought my first truck – an old red Chevrolet.

"You're better than Earnhardt, honey." Sue told me with a sly little look. Coming from her, it was a pretty big compliment. I knew she'd always had the hots for Dale.

I reached over and squeezed her leg with my right hand. It wasn't quite the same squeeze I used to give her – it was a little shakier and weaker – but at least I could use my right hand again.

"Where to now, princess?" I asked, reaching a crossroads.

"Ooh, I have a personal chauffer?" she giggled – it was such a damn beautiful sound and I hadn't heard it much recently – so I nodded and tipped an imaginary hat to her.

She gave our destination some thought while we idled at the stop sign. "Hang a left and we can head down to the beach below Jefferson Cove. I didn't pack a picnic for nothing and this sun is too good to waste."

I grinned and felt both sides of my mouth move up almost equally. "I knew I married you for a reason, woman."

Sue leaned over and kissed me. That felt as good as it had at seventeen and I told her so.

"Yeah," she replied but then something flickered in her face.

I have her leg another squeeze. "I know, princess, I know." She was thinking about Seth again. When did we never?

I pulled out onto the road. Sue shook her hair out of its usual braid then wound down her window. With her hair swirling around her, she flashed me a grim smile and I saw the determination in her face to enjoy this day for what it was: her and me just cruising.

An hour of pleasant conversation later, we arrived at the end of the Lower Hoh Road and set up our picnic in one of the few sandy spots on the rough, stony beach.

I ate more broccoli salad than was healthy for any man but I couldn't exactly turn it down when my wife handfed it to me. After lunch we sprawled in silence on our blanket, dozing in the sun while the waves rolled in. Sue's back was tucked against my chest and I traced slow patterns over her body.

"Harry?" She trapped my hand against her stomach.

"Yeah, baby?"

"If we could, well, I wondered, this is total speculation, I mean, but would you…"

Sue trailed off, unusually hesitant. I'd learned a long time ago you didn't prompt her on the very rare occasions when she was like this, she'd only snap if you did. Sooner or later she'd spit out whatever was bothering her.

Sure enough, she started up again.

"I'm not even forty-two, we could have another baby, couldn't we?"

Ah. That's what'd been troubling her. "Yeah, we _could_." I didn't say any more because I didn't know what more to say.

"You don't think it's a good idea?" My wife turned on the blanket to face me.

It took me a while to organise my thoughts and Sue, knowing me as well as I knew her, gave me the time I needed.

"Princess, I think I'm recovering from a stroke, we have a daughter who needs us and this might be one of those stages of grief the bereavement councillors talked about."

Sue nodded slowly. A single tear fell down her pretty face so I pulled her to me where she took a shuddering breath against my chest.

"Sorry. You're right. I'm just having a ridiculously impractical and stupid moment. Thank god you're such a frigging wise man."

"Don't apologise. I'm not saying no. I'm saying I think we should wait. If you still feel this way by, say, the end of the year, maybe we should try then."

I felt her nod against me and then she looked up, wearing the same expression of forced happiness as she'd had earlier on the drive down. My wife had always been tough but right now I wished there was no need for her to be so strong. Something in me wanted to make her really happy again. At the moment, though, all I could do was try for a cheesy joke.

"Besides, what if we did have another kid and it ended up more like Leah than Seth? Do we really want to do that to ourselves?"

I held my breath until she laughed. _Really _laughed. Between breaths she choked out "It's not my fault Leah takes after YOUR ornery mother!"

I grinned. Of course Sue would pull out that old family joke – I'd have been pretty worried if she hadn't. "Yeah, and it's not my fault she takes after you either, woman. Probably explains why I love her so much – seeing how I love you and all."

We leaned in and kissed each other. Sue's voice was fierce in my ear "I love you too," she whispered and then she rolled on top of me.

Grief might still be a present, nagging weight in both of our minds but the joy I found in still being able to make love to my wife temporarily outweighed the bad shit in our lives.

Since we'd had nearly twenty five years to practice, sex was better than it had been at seventeen. Afterwards, I thought it smart to tell Sue that. She smiled in her seductive way while fishing around for her clothes.

"Yeah we are good but I think I'm gonna have a bruise from a rock under the blanket. Lucky it's an empty beach."

We laughed, I wiggled back into my jeans and we just lay there for a while.

Some time later Sue propped herself up on an elbow with a thoughtful look on her face.

"I saw that letter Bella sent you."

"Yeah, poor girl still feels awful. Thinks it's all her fault. I keep asking Charlie to tell her it's not but I don't think he wants to talk to her about it. He's afraid it'll screw her up again or something."

Sue frowned. "Look, in a way it _is_ her fault. I don't care what everyone else thinks. If she'd never taken up with that Cullen creep then it's highly likely none of this would have happened. But it's over and done with now and her guilt isn't going to fix or change anything."

I twirled a finger in my wife's hair trying to sooth her. "No, Bella's guilt did change something. She chose to live."

"True. Charlie's lucky then."

I sat up and wiggled all ten of my toes, an action I hadn't fully appreciated until I'd lost the ability to do it a few months ago. I saw Sue watching me, the slanting afternoon sun casting shadows on her face. She might have been over forty but she didn't look a day older than thirty.

"I'm lucky too, princess. I've got you and Leah." And memories of a son who'd died doing something bred into our people, but I didn't add that.

"Do you think Leah will find happiness like we have?" Sue sat up and leaned against me.

"Depends. I'm not sure she wants it. She certainly doesn't at the moment seeing as she's so focused on starting this physiotherapist course soon." It was sort of ironic that Leah phasing had caused my stroke which had then given her some direction in life.

My wife mmm'd in agreement. "It'll be good for her to get away, challenge herself, meet new people and all that jazz. I'd hate to have seen what would have happened if Sam hadn't agreed to let her ditch the pack for college," Sue chuckled.

I stretched and winced a little – Leah had seriously whooped my ass in yesterday's exercise session. "Well, it's only common sense really. He's not a bad guy, I doubt he wants to cause her any more pain and the tribe doesn't need nine wolves all the time now. Besides, I think it was actually more Jake's decision."

Sue looked surprised. I shrugged.

"Billy said after Leah told Sam she wanted to leave, Jake backed her choice and Sam wasn't going to argue with both of them."

A cool breeze swept along the beach. Sue shivered a little and pressed further into my side as she replied, "Billy is a gossipy old windbag! So Jake's starting to fill his own huge shoes then?"

"Slowly, I think, yes. And with his endorsement, the council can't object to Leah leaving either."

"Hmph," came the grunt from my wife's throat. "I'd like to have seen them try to stop her!"

"Well technically they couldn't have stopped her. Especially not with me, Billy and Old Quil in their ranks. They might have griped a lot but that's about it."

Sue shivered again, although it might have been more from frustration at the backwards views of some council members than from cold. Regardless, the sun was fading and I was feeling tired.

"C'mon," I said, standing stiffly. "We'd better head home." I reached a hand down to Sue and helped her up.

"Since when does the chauffeur tell the princess what to do?" she joked.

"When he thinks it's wise. Remember that he is a fairly wise man." I replied with a wink and started packing away the picnic basket.

Sue reached to help me fold the blanket and faked a pout. "But I thought you were at my beck and call!"

"Always, baby, always."

We stepped closer together for the last fold and I dropped a kiss on my wife's lips. She smiled and I saw it was genuine. For a moment, for part of a day, I had succeeded: I had made her really happy again.

_A/N – Dean Brody's Canadian :) And beach sex…_

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><p><strong>|XLVI – Can't Win| |Sam|<br>**Artist: Ryan Bingham  
>Song: The Weary Kind (Bingham and T-Bone Burnett © 2009)<p>

_And this ain't no place for the weary kind  
>This ain't no place to lose your mind<br>This ain't no place to fall behind  
>Pick up your crazy heart and give it one more try<em>

_Your lover's warm kiss_  
><em>Is too damn far from your fingertips<em>  
><em>You are the man that ruined her world<em>

I guess shit kinda catches up to you after a while. Or so it seems.

I remember thinking it'd be nice if there was room for pity in my life. Then Emily lost the baby we'd barely known we were going to have and I realised everything else we'd been through was comparatively less of a disappointment.

I never thought anything would trump the tie I have with Em but finding out I was going to be a father was something the wolf didn't control and that made the news pretty fucking awesome. Of course the beast was overjoyed by it (I guess the thought of offspring pleased him) but because I didn't have one, I knew I would be the best damned dad ever. And that knowledge was nothing to do with any stinking wolf.

I mean, sure, the timing was shit. Em wanted to finish her tourism stuff at college but we were still so goddamned happy about it. Now we're back exactly where we were before, which isn't a bad place, but somehow we have less because we started thinking about more.

I won't listen to thunder the same way for a long time. I'd taken the night shift myself seeing as vamps tended to appear during storms but it'd been uneventful. Arriving home at some stupid hour in the muggy, early dawn, I'd smelled the blood and heard Emily crying before I could even see the house.

The doctor said up to a quarter of all pregnancies end in miscarriage. There was nothing we could have done, it was no one's fault. Big whoop. It might be true but it doesn't really help me find a way to make Emily feel better. Fuck, I wish things were different but, of all people, us Quileute boys know wishing doesn't get anyone very far.

Thank god Jake's got the balls to step up to the plate and take some more responsibility these days. I never thought I'd want to be back worrying about vampires and Bella Swan again but I can honestly say that was easier then than worrying about my girl is now.

_A/N – Ryan is 30 and has the whiskey-soaked, hickory-smoked voice of someone twice that age. This song's from the most excellent film _Crazy Heart._ Highly recommend it if you haven't already seen it. Jeff Bridges is an awesome dude and you gotta love the broken-down drunken old country singer stereotype he plays so well. A wretched man can be a beautiful thing…I think it's so sad Sam doesn't realise he doesn't have to save the world. He'll figure it out eventually!_


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